Glass Darkly Broken
by selphiealmasy8
Summary: A fic, set in the Mirror Universe, chronicling the relationship between Dr. Leonard McCoy and Spock.
1. Chapter 1

_**Glass Darkly Broken**_

Rating: Equivalent to an R eventually.

Pairing: Spock/McCoy

Synopsis: A story set in the Mirror Universe. It will deal with the meeting and subsequent relationship between Spock and McCoy there.

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the rights to Star Trek and its characters! Don't be silly! That's Gene Roddenberry! Also I took the name Jocelyn for McCoy's ex wife from Vonda N. McIntyre's book "Enterprise".

* * *

**Chapter One: Meeting**

* * *

The first time they met neither men knew how much their individual lives would be changed by the other, but, if one had any suspicion, it would have been the half Vulcan Spock. He was ruled by logic and the knowledge that the course of a life could only be altered by the introduction of something new and previously unknown. Even with this reasoning, Spock would not have guessed how much his life would be affected by the integration of Dr. Leonard McCoy into it. 

It was at the banquet being held for the Enterprise's new voyage under the captaincy of James T. Kirk.

The Doctor had known Kirk for several years. He'd treated the man once or twice for some previously unknown virus. McCoy knew that the man did not only desire to conquer planets but anything female as well. He had boldly gone where few humans had dared to go before and he hadn't left those encounters without a few unexpected results, precautions or not.

Kirk had come to him, McCoy knew, for his ultimate discretion in those areas. In truth, it aided him. The Doctor was able to first hand study such diseases, garner fame and find cures and vaccines. In doing so he was able to help any ailing society. He could not avoid the fact that lives would be lost and discarded as the Empire exercised its new power and control over the planet and its inhabitants. McCoy cared little for the violence but he had come to terms with it. In his youth he had had some remorse, and semblance of hope, that he could be of help and soften the Empire's cruel ways. Back then the behavior of the system for which he worked had almost destroyed him. In time, he decided that his morality could be sacrificed for the greater good. The new worlds needed him to be a part of the Terran Empire once peace was obtained. Then he could spare them from pain and disease. The Doctor could not allow himself to not be there.

Experimentation had taken time to get use to too. Now often his offices and labs were covered in them. Creatures in pain so that higher life forms would not suffer. In the beginning the sight of them, and the sound of their cries, had nearly broken him. He had not been able to drown out the sound of it. It still disturbed him but drugs offered a good sleep and enough will power to help him keep on his course in the name of being a good Doctor.

That night, Leonard McCoy sat to Kirk's left. The Captain was delivering a long-winded speech that succeeded in making the men in power proud that they had made such a wise choice and the women swoon, praying for one night in the company of such a man.

Leonard refrained from shaking his head. Jocelyn, his ex wife, had been one of those women in the past. She had been so happy over the fact she had barely apologized or kept the story safely from reaching her husband's ears.

Studying the people sitting on the right side of James, McCoy saw a few faces he recognized and a few he didn't.

The most striking of the later was a man with sleek black hair and beard. His eyes were dark and his eyebrows cruel. Obviously he was Vulcan. For one moment the impassive face turned and McCoy met the man's gaze. There was no visible hint on how the Vulcan read the man who was looking at him. Quickly he broke the stare, looking as stony, cold and distant as before.

There was a pause in Kirk's speech and the Doctor looked up at the new Captain for the unexpected silence had won his attention. "And the Empire has made a grand choice in choosing General Sarek's respected son as my First Officer. We all are aware of the Vulcan dedication to logic and reason. There is no room for emotion when there are worlds to obtain and control!"

Kirk extended an arm towards the bearded man who calmly stood. "Officer Spock."

The Vulcan was a statue. The praise and applause bounced off of him as earlier the Doctor's stare had done.

* * *

The first place McCoy went after the formalities had been discarded was the refreshment table. Kirk was there and the Doctor paused before fixing himself a new drink. 

"Good speech," the Doctor said.

"Only good?" the other man said. "I thought it was perfect."

"Seems like you don't need the praise anyway," McCoy replied a tad bitterly.

He spotted the new First Officer across the room talking with an Admiral Carcuck.

"He's Sarek's son then?"

The Captain looked up, slightly confused, until Leonard motioned his glance in the direction of the bearded man.

"Yes," Kirk nodded. "His mother was a human. Very beautiful from the photographs I've seen."

"I'd heard he was a hybrid," McCoy said and Kirk caught the note of interest in the Doctor's voice.

"Yes that would intrigue you wouldn't it?" Kirk smiled. "Jocelyn did say you were focused on your work and you always got excited over new things to discover."

The mention of his former wife hurt McCoy more than he had expected. He tried to cover but knew he failed.

"Maybe Mr. Spock will give you a sample," the Captain smiled. "You can work on it all night. If you want me to order it I will. I, on the other hand, have other work to attend to," the younger man smiled and started to walk towards a pretty blond in a very short and clinging dress.

The Doctor watched him, a look of pain still not completely hidden in his eyes. He looked at the Vulcan, who was as alone as he was now. The Doctor polished off the rest of his drink and walked towards the alien.

Spock raised his head watching the human as he approached.

"Hello," Dr. McCoy greeted. His breath, he realized, gave away the fact that he had just had a very strong drink.

The Vulcan nodded curtly giving no indication that he noticed anything at all.

"I'm Doctor Leonard McCoy," the man said. "But you can call me…"

"I know who you are, Doctor," The Vulcan stated. "Some of your medical discoveries have been well documented. Undoubtedly you know who I am also. Unless you were too intoxicated to."

The two men regarded one another silently.

"Vulcan, huh?" the Doctor resumed the conversation.

"Yes. My better half."

McCoy nodded. "Yes… James was telling me you're half human too."

"We each have our faults to over come," Spock raised an eyebrow. "I am not proud of it."

"From what I've heard, Vulcan's aren't suppose to be proud of anything," McCoy grumbled. "You almost sound racist."

"It is only a fact," Spock replied.

"I guess you would mind if I asked to have a sample of your blood or tissue in order to study it?" the Doctor inquired. "You're a man of science yourself. I am quite… I mean I have the highest interest in the possibilities and readings of a Vulcan and Human hybrid."

The silence was awkward and McCoy knew immediately that he had said the absolutely worst thing that he could have.

"I would mind very much," Spock replied. "I do not think we have the time for such a study. Besides I have little doubt that such a suggestion is made out of a selfish interest for more acclaim."

"You're on my ship aren't you?" McCoy bristled but tried to keep his voice low. "Everyone on the ship is under my care. If something happens to you, and I don't know what to do, who do you think will get blamed?"

"If you are concerned with blame, Doctor," Spock responded. "I take full responsibility for my own health and welfare. I'd rather die than be studied and turned into an article for you to become famous."

The Vulcan turned to leave but turned around once before his complete departure and smoothly addressed the Doctor. "You will find that I don't wound easily and that I can heal myself."

McCoy watched the Vulcan leave the party.

It was not the best of encounters.


	2. Watchful Eye

**_Chapter Two:_** **Watchful Eye**

* * *

Three weeks passed before McCoy and Spock met once again. They had been in close vicinity, and had even met eyes or found the other's eyes resting on them, but there was little time to converse. Things were in action and happening at warp speed. The Doctor had moved most of his necessaties to the Sickbay his office and quarters. Several items had needed special care, experiments not completely done. Other tools and items the Empire had provided, new and more impressive than the outdated instruments he had previously had.

The Vulcan had not brought much of anything. A few items from his father, Sarek's, Vulcan heritage. One possession he hid safely away in a chest while he was alone. It had also come from his father but belonged to his mother. The item had been to painful for the General to keep and he had found it less embarrassing to give it to his son who was half-human afterall. He could never escape from that shame.

The day the Enterprise started off on its mission, Spock found his was to the Sickbay and McCoy was startled to find the Vulcan standing near the door.

The pretty new nurse, Christine Chapel, was talking to the man. She seemed animated and decidedly enamoured by the Vulcan. Her feminimity was heightened for his sake but Spock seemed not to notice.

"Mr. Spock," McCoy said garnering the attention of the two.

Chapel looked upset slightly. She glanced at the Vulcan and then at the Docter. Spock ignored her completely, saluting the Empire. The nurse walked away dejected.

"Did you change your mind about that sample?" McCoy tried to joke but he sounded serious and slightly hostile.

"Do not make me regret being here," Spock warned.

The Doctor frowned not wanting to explain the joke that had failed.

"This is the first time I have been here," Spock stated, looking around. "Let me correct that statement: I have been here before but not since you have occupied it."

"It really isn't all that different," McCoy said.

"You being here is the difference," Spock replied and the Doctor knew that the Vulcan was not convinced that the change would be for the better.

Spock walked to a cluttered table.

"I haven't found a place for some of that yet. I'm just getting settled," McCoy warned.

Spock offered a raised eyebrow as he picked up a cage, which held a small furry rodent in obvious pain.

"What is this?" the Vulcan asked.

McCoy walked slowly to the table. "That is a guinea pig. I'm trying to find a way to…"

"An experiment," Spock interrupted and stopped the explanation. "I can see what you are trying to do but I can foresee a problem, Doctor. It is a waste of time, unless _you_ count reliving a piece of human history while helping to illustrate the phrase _useful_."

McCoy took the cage and moved it to the other side of the counter. As he did, the animal screamed. It was in agony. His eyes rested on it for too long a time for mere curiousity's sake.

The human turned to say something to the other man but the moment he met the Vulcan's eyes he felt exposed. The First Officer had witnessed a side of the Doctor that was weak by the standards he undoubtedly expected and judged by. The Doctor knew he had let his compassion be seen. He prayed Spock would not reveal it to Kirk. For his own reasons, McCoy desired to remain aboard the starship.

"Why the blazes are you really here anyway?" the man snapped.

Spock studied the other man's face. He nodded. "The Empire trusted me as First Officer. I want to make them not regret that decision. I have little doubt that Kirk will do fine in his role as Captain and make the proper decision and choices. It is up to me to insure that the rest of the crew is as up to the task at hand."

"I think Kirk hiring me tends to flatter and prove my credentials, don't you agree?" McCoy stated.

"I admire Kirk and I hope he remains Captain for a long time since I have no desire for the post," Spock coldly complimented. "Still, he is human and here primarily because he killed the previous Captain."

McCoy had heard the rumor before. That the logical Vulcan reaffiremed it only made it into truth.

"Pike was your Captain. How can you work with Kirk after that?"

"It is illogical that I shouldn't. There is a string of violence asscociated with that particular post. If I had looked deeply into Pike's past I would discover he had done the same and would do the same as well."

McCoy nodded. In a way it was similar to the reason why he continued to work with James though the man had bedded his wife. He would have been fooling himself to think Kirk had been the first.

He paused for a moment. "So who did you kill, Mr. Spock?"

"I did not kill anyone for my rank," Spock said. "I merely knew where to step when a position became available."

"Don't want red blood on your hands? I guess we are the same."

"On the contrary your work is all about death," the Vulcan said. "If people remained healthy you would not be needed. You have your position and rank because of death, disease and pain."

"No more Vulcan logic," the Doctor snapped.

The other man turned and started to leave.

"So how did I do? Did I pass inspection?" the human called out.

Spock turned and looked at McCoy. "this was not a true inspection but rather something to fufill my own interest. You would not know when I was studying you. However, be assured you will be under my watchful eye, Doctor. I _would_ suggest one thing to improve the running of this Sickbay."

"What?"

"Your nurse, Miss Chapel, is far too friendly. Tell her we are _not_ on one of Harry Mudd's pleasure barges."

"I certainly will," McCoy said. "Besides, pleasure seems to be the furthest thing from you mind, I do believe."

With that assessment from the physician, the Vulcan left.

* * *


	3. Rumors

**_Chapter 3: Rumors_**

* * *

No matter what warning McCoy gave Chapel he could not make the woman understand that the First Officer was not interested in her. She continued to throw herself at the Vulcan at every opportunity. At first, McCoy believed it to be primarily concerned with rank and that his female assistant only wished to become connected to a man in high position. Surely, the only attraction to such a man would be determined by power or even physical appearance alone.

It was only after many weeks that he understood her affection was serious, and though he hated to admit it, the Doctor understood the reason why. The Vulcan did hold a certain charisma in his own unique way. He was smart, forceful and honest, sometimes painfully so. However, at least you knew where you stood with the man. While other officers smiled to your face and aimed axes at your back, such honesty was welcome. Attracted by this fact, and feeling a contempt bristling off most others on board the spaceship, the Doctor found himself crossing paths and will with Spock more and more often. In many ways it was as much a form of therapy for McCoy, whose days were filled with screams of pain, doing things he did not want to and analyzing the rest of the crew's twisted psyches, fearing that some of that darkness may creep into his own soul.

Spock took these discussions with the same impassiveness he gave to everything but he would argue with the Doctor, paying more attention to him than anyone other than the Captain.

Soon the human and the Vulcan came to verbally sparring frequently. While it exhausted him and he felt he failed more times than he succeeded, McCoy looked forward to the times he argued viciously with the First Officer.

Spock never showed any sign of whether he enjoyed it or not but at least he gave no sign that he was upset over it. McCoy had seen the result when the Vulcan was not pleased. When he would not rely on the agonizer, he turned to breaking bones, and bruising flesh. But even this seemed done with the same casual reserve and coolness.

If anyone was upset over the ongoing arguments it was Nurse Chapel and Captain Kirk. Chapel hated it for her jealousy that the Vulcan was not centered on her and Kirk because it annoyed him and stole away attention focused solely on him.

"Jabber, Jabber, Jabber," Kirk said once. "I can't think when you two go at it!"

They still argued in the Captain's presence though, seemingly unable to stop it.

Once Spock visited the Sickbay to find out how a wounded Ensign Chekov was faring, wounds he had been responsible for.

"I should have used my agonizer," Spock reprimanded himself with no sign of guilt. "I did not mean to throw him so forcefully but I suppose he was weaker than I expected. I did not know that he would hit the wall head first."

"Little difference it will make," McCoy insulted the sleeping man. "You didn't come to give him an apology did you?"

Spock gave no indication that he had. "Chekov deserved the discipline. He was late," Spock stated. "I merely regret my failure to foresee the incident and deprive the mission of a man much needed."

McCoy nodded his head. He could easily argue that there would be several men and women willing to take his place but he was tired and continually asking himself why he had signed onto the mission.

A loud noise suddenly broke the silence, as the clanging of metal falling to the floor caused both men to look and find Chapel kneeling over a tray of dropped medical instruments that looked more like weapons.

"Damn it Chapel!" McCoy shouted.

"I'm sorry," she whispered but looked at the Vulcan during her apology.

"I will be returning to the Bridge," Spock said, never placing his eyes on the woman once. McCoy nodded, Spock saluted and left, passing the woman without even glancing at her.

The Doctor turned his attention to the Nurse. Pity urged him to go to her even though he chastised himself that there was no room for it here or anywhere else. Still he walked towards her and began to help her place the fallen items back on the tray.

McCoy noticed once again how the woman's uniform was shrinking in another failed attempt to get Spock to notice her. The only good it did was to lure several lustful men and women to the Sickbay without any true ailment. The one thing that really caught the Doctor's eyes was not the increasing length of Chapel's cleavage but the blood that was staining what little fabric remained. Those stains became darker and darker until they could not be washed away. McCoy wondered if he was the only one who noticed the stains. Sometimes he even wondered if they really did become darker at all or if it was only his imagination. He absently remembered some line from a Shakespeare play… One about a woman's sanity being lost has she tried in vain to get the blood from off her hands.

Looking at the woman's face now, McCoy saw her shoulders shaking and water running down the ivory of her cheek. Against his own will, the Doctor reached out and placed a hand on Chapel's shoulder. She looked up; her blue eyes drowning in unshed tears.

"You can go to your Quarters," McCoy ordered. "I can handle this."

The Nurse could not talk in her gratitude. She simply stood quickly and fled from the Sickbay.

McCoy returned the bloody and rusted instruments to where they had rested before. He felt himself growing weaker and older while the rest of the crew became more hard and cold. The more they lost their consciences the more he felt inadequate and too emotional to join them. The man rubbed his face and sighed.

* * *

When Spock returned to the Bridge he found another ensign at Chekov's station. He reassured himself that things were performing naturally and efficiently once more.

He would not tell anyone that he had acted has he had, not out of discipline, but from irritation. Just as Chekov would remain in the dark that the Vulcan had heard the lewd comment the younger man had made about Vulcan's and their mating rituals. He had been unseen has he had passed by the previous night. It was easily assumed by the crew that he had done it for the sake of the Terran Empire's mission and he would not correct them.

He resumed his work only turning his head away from his screen has he heard the elevator's doors open. McCoy entered the Bridge and Spock turned back to his screen once again.

"Why Sawbones!" Kirk exclaimed as he saw the Doctor. "What are you doing on my Bridge? Isn't it happy hour for you! Well I guess it usually is, regardless of time."

The Vulcan did not have to turn to study the Doctor's face. He knew that the man would be either turning red from shame or anger. By now the rumor that the physician was a drunk had widely spread like a virus. Clearly, Captain Kirk wished to aid its health and turn it into an epidemic.

"You promised me corpses last week," McCoy said. "I'm still waiting. I heard there were several casualties after…"

"Why are you so concerned with corpses?" Kirk snapped. "I remember a time when you did your studies on the living. Aren't those preferable than the dead? I keep sending you new subjects but you keep sending them back!"

There was a pause. "At least if you brought the bodies back there would be something left to bury for the families."

If Spock would allow himself to cringe he would have done so then.

"Families!" Kirk exclaimed. "You want us to waste time collecting dead for their families? They knew what they were signing up for. Our mission is far too important for us to become trash collectors. I'm disappointed in you."

"I'm just tired," McCoy said and Spock knew the words were true. He could hear it in the other man's voice.

"Well go get some sleep!" Kirk said loudly. "Drink yourself into a coma."

"What about the patients?" McCoy asked.

"If they die then there are your corpses," Kirk said jovially.

Spock listened to the footsteps of the Doctor and imagined the look of sorrow that was undoubtedly on his face.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Preventive measures.

* * *

The food area was close to full, a fact Spock had counted on. Otherwise it may have been uncomfortable.

He sat at the table solitary and ignored for the all the sexual games being played around him. Already several Ensigns and Technicians had successfully flirted and obtained company for the night. Why humans spent so much time on the pursuit of physical pleasure was beyond him. In his own estimation the ship would have faired much better with a castrated crew and all the women in medieval chastity belts. Although then, in all odds, Kirk would have made a sport of collecting the keys.

One of the crewmembers to leave early was Lieutenant Uhura. She had centered on her prey and secured him with little maneuvering. As always, she chose a man below her station and he seemed grateful for the attention. The man left early and Uhura watched him leave with hungry eyes. As she spotted the Vulcan, a look of surprise crossed her face and she stood and made her way to where Spock was sitting.

"I've rarely seen you here," she said sitting down, uninvited, at the table. "Embracing your humanity for once?"

The Officer looked at the suggestion with contempt. "Hardly. I am waiting for Chapel to arrive. But it is not for pleasure only business."

The woman laughed. "Oh honey, you have made a _huge_ mistake. To be so smart when it comes to logic and to be so foolish when it comes to matters of emotion…"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I have estimated that Chapel may get some emotional notion into her head so I took the precaution of asking her here in public."

Uhura shook her head in disbelief. "Do you think that matters? That poor girl would do anything for you and you're playing with her heart. Doesn't matter if it's '_business'_. Sulu was here moments ago trying to do a little _'business'_ with me."

The suggestion that Chapel may get the wrong idea despite the precautions he had taken was extremely irritating to the Vulcan. Yet, as the doors opened and Chapel appeared obviously having spent too much time on her appearance, Spock realized that the Lieutenant was correct in her assumptions.

Uhura smiled. "Good luck," she whispered and left the table.

Christine shot her a jealous look as she walked by but tried to brighten as she approached the table.

"Hello Mr. Spock," she said softly.

"Chapel," Spock said coldly and motioned her to sit where the Lieutenant had just left.

"You don't know how happy …" she began.

"I called you here to talk about McCoy," Spock interrupted his voice holding no warmth and care to whether she was happy to be in his company or not. He felt little regret that she had somehow gotten the wrong idea. He had taken every chance to avoid that possibility and it was not his fault that he had failed.

"Doctor McCoy?' she said surprised as she sat.

"You know our mission," the man continued despite the woman's confusion. "We are to help the Empire in its desire to control and occupy space."

Chapel nodded still somewhat unsure.

"It is my job to not only aid the Captain but insure that the safety of this crew and that our mission remains intact. I cannot do this with an intoxicated physician on board."

Now the woman completely understood what the man was trying to say and that she had misunderstood his intent. "I'm not the Doctor's keeper," she spat out bitterly.

"But you are aware of the rumor spreading concerning McCoy?"

Chapel nodded. "Yes but he isn't here is he?"

"That is beside the point," Spock stated. "It is what he does in the safety of his quarters that concerns me."

Chapel smirked. "If you are so _concerned_ with what McCoy does alone in his quarters why don't you go and find out yourself. Add another rumor to the rest."

There was an undercurrent of something the woman considered to be an insult in her words but he ignored it completely. "If I was there he would not drink in front of me," Spock reasoned. 

"Find other things to do to keep yourselves occupied," Chapel said and her voice was filled with hostility borne of hurt and pain. Her face contorted with rare anger and Spock realized that the woman was different from when he had first met her. Her vulnerability was gradually being replaced by distance, cynicism and rage.

"I am merely curious to see if you know if the rumor is correct."

"You spend so much time in one another's face don't you think you would have smelt it?"

"Yes. I have considered this," Spock informed. "His breath is pure. Still he is a Doctor and there heave been many way to cover up the scent."

Christine folded her arms and looked at the Vulcan. "Always an answer?"

Spock looked at her waiting. She sighed. "I think the rumors aren't exactly false. I've seen him a few times…well not in complete control."

"Has he ever made a pass at you?" Spock asked.

Something about the question made Chapel look at the Vulcan sharply. While in another man she would have had some belief that it was asked out of jealousy for her sake, she knew this was not the case and the insults she had thrown at Spock about the Doctor seemed to turn around and wound her instead. "No," the Nurse said. "He's as bad as you in some ways."

She paused and looked at the table, suddenly remorseful. "I say that like I'm upset… But McCoy has been good to me. I don't have to tell you that most men I worked under… Well I worked under literally. Not Doctor McCoy. He's been nothing but good to me and he treats me more like a sister than a sex object."

The words comforted the First Officer. "Will you promise to let me know if it gets out of control?"

Chapel nodded.

Spock stood but the woman placed her hand over the Vulcan's preventing him from leaving. "Why not stay here with me?" she said persuasively. "One night wouldn't hurt would it?"

Spock removed the woman's hand. "That is not the way it works for me."

"Would you mind telling me what works exactly?" she asked desperately.

He looked at her and knew that there was little he could offer her and sympathy was not a way for a true Vulcan.

"Patience," he answered, knowing that even if the Nurse had all the patience a human could find it would still do no good for she wanted his love and she had not managed to lure the affection from him.

Still, she looked more hopeful than sad and he could leave her without blame trying to break through the wall he had built around his human side long ago, and without any need to fight sympathy, which he had no right to feel.

* * *

McCoy was awake in his room. An empty bottle lay on his table.

His room was barren. He had little to bring on board. Not a single photograph that would not cause a sting of pain or a memento not tied to regret.

He had brought a rather large selection of ales, brew, beers and anything else that could drown misery when it crept in as he let it more and more often these days.

Lost in a fog, he still managed to hear his door sound. He was going to ignore it but after 15 long minutes of suffering the sound he surrendered.

"Whoever the hell you are I'd love to see where you get your patience from," the Doctor mumbled as he stood.

Pushing a button, the door slid open and revealed Spock.

"Figures," McCoy mumbled.

Spock ignored the slurred word as he did with anything not worthy of his time.

"May I come in?"

McCoy looked to the table and flushed as his eyes rested on the empty bottle. He chose to mask his shame in irritation. "Well of course," McCoy smiled. "But on the condition you let me take that sample tissue I've been asking for for so long."

Spock raised and unimpressed eyebrow and turned to leave.

"I was just joking you awful Vulcan!" McCoy shouted out.

Spock stopped, turned and returned. "I have never been here," the First Officer said as he looked around.

"There's not much to see," McCoy said trying to steady himself.

"Well it matters little," the Vulcan said. "I came to talk to you."

"I presumed as much," the Doctor said. "Why?"

"I heard Kirk's comments to you," the Vulcan stated. "Infact I believe that most of the Bridge heard it."

No sarcastic remark came to McCoy's mind or lips.

"The statement has validity, I can see from your expression."

"What does it matter to you anyway?" McCoy threw the question at the other man.

"It matters to this crew and that is what matters to me," Spock replied.

"Death is as common as a sneeze aboard this ship. No one cares," McCoy rebuffed. "I don't see why you should."

Spock studied the human. "And to gather strength or apathy you've resorted to getting drunk to hide your own care. You are far too sentimental."

The judgment was not unexpected. McCoy had felt that way often himself.

"You can relieve me then," McCoy said. "Or get Kirk too."

"I don't want to do that."

The statement was unexpected.

"Why not?" The Doctor demanded. He felt his heart racing for a moment.

"First you are a good Doctor. The best in the field. Second I do not wish a new one to come on board. I will confess that you are not the first to be interested in… studying me in the name of Science."

It was clear that the Vulcan meant every word and McCoy was flattered in spite of himself.

"You're afraid someone else may push their authority and actually get the proper papers?"

Spock nodded. "Yes. Your sentimentality, though foolish, has protected me. You cannot bring yourself to force your hand."

"Is there a thank you in their somewhere?" McCoy said, his head feeling less fuzzy from the shock of the Vulcan being so open."

"If there is you can take it," the First Officer nodded but remained as cold has ever. "However if you continue to build on the reputation you have for retreating to alcohol as a solution you will not be useful here and we will fail in our mission. No matter how strongly I want to retain my privacy, I can't endanger the mission of the Terran Empire."

The redness returned to the human's face. "What do you plan to do to stop me?" McCoy inquired.

"I am not completely sure," the science Officer said eyeing the physician. "I could use force but I don't think that is the right decision to make."

"Logical of you," McCoy smirked.

"Nevertheless, have little doubt that I will find a way."

McCoy eyed his sparring partner. "Very kind of you caring for my personal safety."

Spock coldly met the other man's gaze. "I care about the mission's safety not yours."

The Vulcan strode out the door.

"Well thanks anyway. Maybe one night I'll take to visiting your quarters unasked," McCoy shouted out. 

The Vulcan turned and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. The comment lay between them, awkward for the human who would openly admit to such emotions. McCoy went to reply but the door shut before he could explain himself sealing him off from the other man.


	5. Deirdre

* * *

Chapter Five: Deirdre

* * *

Days passed and still Spock had not fulfilled his promise to prevent McCoy from further sullying his reputation and harm his position of Doctor on board the starship, demoting himself to nothing more than being a drunkard.

He'd seen the Vulcan several times. They continued their ongoing feud and verbal assault but the First Officer refused to bring up the subject of the Physician's problem. Although Leonard knew that it was to stop further spread of the rumor he was mildly grateful to Spock, even if the emotion was wasted.

However, the rumor did still become well known throughout the Enterprise. McCoy noted the sound of scorn or laughter, sometimes both, behind his back and he saw the burgeoning contempt and mirth in his patients' eyes. They had no faith in him.

McCoy couldn't stop himself, though. He kept on seeking solace from the warm liquid and sometimes he almost found himself praying that the First Officer would stop him as he had promised he would.

Meanwhile, the Enterprise was used to further spread the Empire's control and venom in the deepest regions of space, called on to do the bleakest of work, caring little that it was corrupting the souls of the men and women who lived by its laws and desires.

The starship had suddenly been called to a planet known as Galzec. Kirk walked into the Doctor's office, the Vulcan following a few steps behind.

After preliminaries, the Captain stated why he was really there.

"Habilcar, that's the man's name, Doctor, if you aren't too trashed to hear it. He wants us to check up on the health of his concubine and their child."

"Don't they have someone to treat her there, blast it? I'm hardly acquainted with their biology," McCoy snapped.

Kirk smiled broadly. "Good Sawbones! I knew I could still count on you to figure things out by yourself even though most of us have lost faith."

The Captain turned to Spock who did not react at all and gave Kirk no further opportunity for insults to be hurled in the Doctor's path.

"Few humans have been allowed on Galzec, despite the Empire's control. It's due to the large quantity of Dilithium there. Habilcar has given us permission, and done what we asked, but has stressed the desire to keep Mekeru, the Capital, pure from most human influence. There was one human allowed on Galzec, however." Kirk continued. "Habilcar seems to have a reputation for… Shall we say coveting the exotic? No. Lusting is probably more like it."

"And you'd know all about that, don't you," McCoy said.

Kirk merely smiled. "The Empire offered him one human girl. He took her as his mistress. I can't say I don't see where he was coming from."

It was well known that the Captain also liked to dip his foot in unusual waters. Foot was probably not the right term.

"So the woman is full human and the child is half human," McCoy nodded.

"Yes. At least that species you are use to."

"Yes, but I still wouldn't count on it. Why all this for a concubine and an illegitimate offspring?" McCoy inquired. "It seems a little unusual."

"We don't ask questions," Kirk said and patted the Doctor's cheek condescending. "You should just do it and be happy the Empire remains oblivious to your recreational habits."

McCoy's face burned in shame and anger while Kirk, pleased with himself, stood and left. Spock remained by the door, lingering.

The Doctor studied the Vulcan. "And what do you know about all this?"

Spock did not blink. "I know as much as you do, Doctor."

Not wanting to pursue the matter, McCoy simply nodded.

* * *

The Woman was attractive. There was no question why the Empire had selected her for the Ruler, though McCoy guessed she would have been barely out of adolescence when she had been sent to Galzec. She looked around the Sickbay, in fear at the grotesque instruments on display but warmly when her eyes rested on another human. When her eyes rested on Spock her mood changed drastically and her actions became hostile.

Warming again, she turned to McCoy. "It has been so long since I've seen another human," she told the Doctor. "My name is Deirdre."

She said it like an unfamiliar word.

He nodded and lead her to an examining table. After he had read the scans, the Doctor was about to let her go but Spock reached out and stopped him. "You are to exam her appearance, as well. Make sure she is not scarred in any way or damaged. I am to make sure you do and that you do not press your advantage."

McCoy resented the implication. The woman was beautiful but he was not interested or attracted to her. It had been a long time since he had been interested in anyone in that way.

Still, the Physician led the girl into his office, where there was more privacy and the Vulcan followed. Deirdre looked nervously at the Vulcan when the three were alone.

"Don't worry about him," McCoy motioned towards Spock. "He's iron. Might as well be a computer or android."

She nodded shyly and disrobed.

There were no scars on her body but what struck the Doctor was the way she seemed to shrink from his stare and touch.

"Okay," McCoy whispered and the woman started to dress.

"He's clever," Deirdre said softly, her eyes darting from Vulcan to human. "He never leaves a mark. He tells me I'll get to see Channing tonight. It's been too long. I miss her."

McCoy knew to whom she was referring: her daughter. He tried to act as if the words did not reach him. He looked at Spock and was slightly disappointed to see that the man was achieving easily what he had to fight for.

"If you see her will you tell her that I love her," the woman asked plaintively.

McCoy did not need to look at Spock for approval. He decided for himself. "Yes."

"Oh thank you!" Deirdre cried.

No remarks came from the Vulcan as he guided the concubine from the office.


	6. Channing

**_Chapter Six: Channing_**

* * *

What Spock had told the good Doctor about being as much in the proverbial dark about this particular mission had been the truth. Their knowledge was equal with the exception of the First Officer having caught a brief glimpse of Habilcar, his wife and his children on the monitor in Kirk's office. They all looked healthy if arrogant, sour and fat.

When Spock first saw the child he noticed how thin she was. He had seen Habilcar's other heirs when Kirk had talked to the man on the screen and they were well fed. His female and illegitimate child's clothing also was in poor shape. She looked uncared for and he remembered her mother's words concerning their separation. The child held few of her father's alien features. Her skin held only the slightest hint of amber and her eyes were duotone instead of the monotone black.

She looked at him with no fear but only curiosity. Still she would not speak and remained silent, something Spock did not regret.

When he brought the child into the Sickbay, Spock noticed the look of relief on McCoy's face. Obviously he had been scared that she would be drastically removed from human biology and he would not know what to do. It was not prejudice that marked this but the man's strong need not to fail when it came to his profession. It was admirable if not completely useful.

On seeing the other man, Channing fled to Chapel. The Vulcan guessed that the girl had gone to the woman who resembled her mother slightly from being human and female at least. The child tried to cling to the Nurse's leg but she broke the hold. Once more, Spock noticed the change in Chapel's manner, as if with every rejection she encountered on board the ship she became harder.

Noticing his Nurse's coldness also, McCoy reached out a hand to the girl. Spock viewed the look of kindness that crossed the Doctor's face, without hesitation now or fear that it would be unaccepted. Though hesitant, Channing took the hand offered. McCoy shook it gently. "You are Channing right? I've seen your mother. She wanted me to say hi and tell you how much she wants to see you," McCoy said.

Hearing her mother mentioned, the girl fled from Chapel and clung to the Doctor with no shame. Spock successfully threw back a memory that tried to surface, an image of Amanda, wife of Sarek, holding her own child. McCoy was not as successful masking the look of affection that crossed his own face. He smoothed the girl's hair and led her to a table. Sensing the man's kindness, Channing was willingly led. Spock willingly followed. Spock noted the girl's bravery. The Sickbay was not a place fit for children and it welcomed no comfort or warmth and refused to give either as well.

"Your mother is well," McCoy said, automatically knowing that this subject made the girl feel more comfortable. "I just saw her this morning."

"They told me I'll get to see her tonight," Channing whispered as if loud words from her mouth, or anything audible to the human ear without straining, had been forbidden to her.

"You will," the Doctor said.

"They haven't let me see her for a long time," the girl continued.

"We aren't suppose to keep her longer than it takes for you to examine her, Doctor," Spock stated knowing that the Patient/Doctor relationship was being compromised by simple compassion.

The Doctor threw him a look of contempt and went through with the examination. She was not bruised, just as her mother had not been but she moved away from touch as if a hand could scar her and not one simply clenched in a fist.

"You're a healthy girl," McCoy said when done. "You're mother would be happy to know it," he added when his statement garnered no care either way. With the mention of her mother, Channing smiled again.

"Please take her to the Transporter Room," Spock said lifting the girl from off of the table. His words were spoken to Chapel and not McCoy. The Nurse grabbed the child's hand and dragged her out of the room.

Spock studied the Doctor's face. "It is not advisable that you should accompany her. You will never see her again after today."

McCoy looked down at the table. "No. I guess not."

When the Doctor looked up he saw an unexpected gleam in the Vulcan's eyes. "Are we curious Mr. Spock?"

The Vulcan would not answer.

McCoy sighed and folded his arms. "When I was married my wife became pregnant. She aborted the pregnancy without telling me. She didn't want it…"

"But you did," Spock finished.

The human nodded. "I guess, maybe it was for the best. This isn't exactly a place suited for children is it? Sometimes though I wish I would have had a say in the matter at least."

"I find it fascinating the way you cling to your softer emotions when you will admit that there is not room for them here," Spock stated.

"Yet you won't let me try to drown them into oblivion?"

No answer was given.

"Get back to your post Mr. Spock," McCoy spat, turning his back on the Vulcan.

* * *

There was one emotion that Vulcans were never completely able to relinquish, an emotion linked to trouble in the human world: Curiosity. They never tired of learning and increasing their knowledge. This was no different in either reality as was their hold on logic has their strongest faith.

Spock was curious about the mission and what it really concerned. It did not take him too long to hear the real reason why Habilcar's concubine and female child had been studied and examined by a third party having no effect or interest in the planet except for its dilithium. The news spread quickly after some time had passed and they still hovered over Galzec and Kirk reveled in the pride of how easily he had helped in acquiring dilithium for the Empire.

Spock knew that he had also found something he had been searching for as well. He had found a way to reach McCoy and stop his drinking. It was almost an irony that it was through the softer emotions they had discussed hours before but then the Vulcan had always known that this was where McCoy was most vulnerable and weak.

* * *


	7. The Banquet

**_Chapter Seven: The Banquet Chapter Seven: The Banquet_**

* * *

Though he had asked several people, McCoy was unable to find a direct answer to what had happened to Deirdre and Channing. He had asked Officer Sulu once but had only gotten a brief smirk before the man had walked away.

Once he had approached Kirk on the bridge, avoiding eye contact with Spock.

"You can't tell me anything?" the Doctor asked his head heavy from a hangover.

"No," Kirk suggested. "Join in the festivities tonight and don't let it bother you. There should be enough beer, rum and ale to suit even a Klingon's needs. Although, I do say that a Klingon is not in your league yet Sawbones."

McCoy swore and left the bridge frustrated.

Alone in his office, he was about to break open a bottle of scotch but stopped when he noticed Spock in the room.

"What are you staring at you devil eared freak?" the Doctor spat.

Spock looked at him quietly. "I think you should join in the banquet tonight."

McCoy studied the Vulcan. "Why? Do you not have a date?"

Another joke that seemed awkward somehow for unknown reasons.

"If you want to know what happened to the woman and girl you treated just yesterday I suggest you go."

That was all McCoy needed to hear.

"Okay," he mumbled.

"But I must beg you come with me," Spock demanded.

The human did not know what prompted the request but he knew it was for a reason important to the First Officer. For a moment he considered saying no just to irritate the man but chose against it. In truth he would find the Vulcan's calm reserve more strengthening than problematic.

"Yes."

"One more thing," Spock said. "Do not drink anything remotely alcoholic. I demand that you go to tonight's celebration as pure as you can."

The demand was unusual and did not pass the Doctor without earning a surge of suspicion. "Why? You're not going to poison me are you?"

"I assure you Doctor McCoy you will not be poisoned," Spock stated. "In fact I'm doing it so you won't be partially. A part of the festivities is comprised of drinking several varieties of ale, brew etc… in large quantity."

Without another word the Vulcan left and McCoy was left feeling no more assured than he had ever been.

* * *

The festivities were indeed loud. It was taking all of McCoy's strength to not pass out from the sound of the celebration. If there was any pleasure to be had it was that Spock was not enjoying it much either. The Doctor was sure of this because the Vulcan never strayed more than 2 feet away from him. He was hovering around like a cloud filled with rain.

"Fun isn't it?" McCoy spat at Spock. "I hope your pointy ears are getting all of this 100 louder."

"I will tell you that it is only half of that," Spock retorted.

"You take me to the nicest places," McCoy said wryly as they passed one of the Enterprise's crew half dressed and being stroked by another crewmember.

"I would not take you here, Doctor, if it wasn't for your own good."

"Where would you take me then?" McCoy asked.

"No where really. I do not believe that you would go anywhere I'd like to be in my company."

The human stopped and looked at the man beside him. "Does that upset you?"

For a moment he had thought he had glimpsed something in the Vulcan's eyes or betrayed in his voice.

"It does not upset me," Spock replied. "It is just a fact."

"Well correct your 'facts'. I'd go with you as long as…"

The First Officer raised a customary eyebrow. "As long as what may I enquire?"

McCoy inhaled deeply. "As long as it wasn't here!"

The Southern man had been fighting the urge to sneak off and more than sample a drink. He'd seen others downing glass after glass repeatedly. He contemplated it several times but given up hope, knowing the Vulcan would undoubtedly find him.

"Do not worry Doctor," Spock suddenly said. "It should be time to toast soon."

"Please don't tell me you're a mind reader?" McCoy replied startled. "I've heard of that mind meld thing but I think I'd kill myself if you could go searching through my thoughts anytime you fancied."

Spock shook his head. "No. I just noticed the look of thirst on your face and the large man about to hit the dinner gong." A long finger pointed to their left.

McCoy saw the large muscled man was inches away from hitting a large metal object, most definitely a gong, and in a mere second the sound pierced the air, McCoy and everyone around flinched. Even Spock, who was offended most by the sound.

"Habilcar," Spock whispered as an amber skinned large man appeared at the top of the stairs. It was the look on the man's face that unnerved McCoy the most. It was not a kind face nor did it contain any comfort.

"I asked the Captain and certain members of the crew of the Enterprise to come and join me in my palace and drink to my success."

Spock threw the Doctor a look urging him to follow. McCoy did.

At the bottom of the stairs, Kirk and the Chief Engineer for the Enterprise, Montgomery Scott, stood. They were talking about something but their words were mumbled and meant for one another. As Spock and McCoy neared, Kirk stopped the conversation to nod. He looked as if he had been expecting them. The small group walked up the stairs in unison, following Habilcar.

"Why are you here?" McCoy asked the Engineer.

"Kirk asked me."

"I don't see why," McCoy added. "You're only the Engineer. You didn't really have much to do with all this did you?"

"No. But I heard about the celebration. The drinking is supposed to be bonnie, from what I hear. Something you could appreciate from what I've heard."

Whatever the man had heard had been right and McCoy craved a drink more than ever.

They were led to a pair of ornate golden doors. Habilcar didn't raise a finger. Two servants appeared and pushed them open with what seemed like moderate difficulty. Once open the place showed itself to be a room made for dining. In the middle was a large table with several plates and dishes placed and waiting. At every setting sat 7 glasses, empty but waiting to be filled.

"Take a seat," Habilcar ordered spreading his arms wide.

The four men walked to the table. McCoy chose a seat far from the head of the table, undoubtedly, for their host. Spock sat down next to him without even a look given to the Doctor.

"Today my wealth has been increased," Habilcar spoke loudly. "I ask those who have aided in that growth to join me in this ceremony usually taken by my people in regards to this blessing.

McCoy glanced at the Vulcan at his right who refused to meet his eyes.

"I am not an expert on your planet," Habilcar stated with a sly smile. "However, I have made an effort to add a twist to an ancient Galzecian custom. The cups before you will be filled with the finest brews your planet could offer. My taste for the exotic you will find is not limited to those of the fairer sex."

When their host had finished, more servants appeared. Each glass before them was filled.

"We eat first and toast later," Habilcar instructed.

Throughout the meal, McCoy felt his eyes wandering to the full cups. Spock, who barely touched his meal looked at the Doctor.

"Smell inviting, Doctor?" the Vulcan asked.

"No," McCoy told him. "If you think I drink for the taste you're wrong, Mr. Spock."

Spock turned away and McCoy added. "I drink for what it does. Surely your logic would understand that."

Spock nodded.

When the meal was finished the servants came and took the plates away.

Habilcar stood.

"Now we drink."

The man raised a glass and his four guests followed suit.

"For the earth and for the sky," Habilcar stated and drank.

It followed this pattern. Drink after drink was downed in honor or life, blood and flesh, riches and pleasures.

"Do you like the taste?" Spock asked as he studied McCoy.

"Yes," the Doctor smiled.

When the drinks were gone and the room was filled with laughter and the fog of being drunk, Spock leaned close to McCoy.

"Now Doctor," he whispered. "Ask Habilcar what happened to Deirdre and Channing."

The human nodded. He was drunk and open to suggestion though he had momentarily forgotten about the mother and daughter he had not very long ago treated.

"How are Deirdre and Channing?" McCoy shouted loudly.

Habilcar smiled and laughed. He looked to Kirk and McCoy noticed the wide grin on the Captain's face.

"He doesn't know," Kirk said. "It wasn't in the Empire's orders to tell him."

Their host looked at McCoy and the human almost believed he sensed Spock grow tense beside him.

"I needed them to be healthy. I sold both to a merchant from another planet… Damn! I never could pronounce it!" Habilcar exclaimed but his joy was not dampened. "From what I heard, when she knew what was happening the whore grabbed the child and tried to escape. This merchant's men shot her. It didn't matter really. It was the child he was after. She was still young enough for him and resembled a human. He was looking for that, something I hated the girl for. She's in his hands now quite literally. This is why we are here tonight! I am a richer man tonight and free of a slut and her unwanted child. I toast to the Empire and those who helped me achieve this."

Never once did Habilcar refer to Channing as his child. McCoy felt he was going to be sick.

* * *

When Leonard was on the Enterprise again he rushed first to his room; the taste of wine and alcohol strong and sickening in his mouth. He leaned over the sink and vomited everything he had consumed. Still even that was not enough to drive the taste away.

When he raised his eyes he saw Spock standing in the doorway.

"Did you know?" McCoy asked.

"Not until the mother was dead and the child taken far away," the Vulcan stated.

"And if you had would you have stopped it?"

"I cannot say. It is illogical for me to even guess."

McCoy nodded and lowered his head, closing his eyes tightly shut.

"But I did see a way to stop you from the path you were taken. The path that would have destroyed you," Spock stated. "I knew that if you were there tonight I could find a way to reach you."

"And how is that?" McCoy demanded.

"Tonight you drank in honor of a woman being killed and her daughter sold into prostitution. You helped the Empire though you were ignorant. Remember the way that tasted Doctor and remember how you craved it and enjoyed yourself. You did that in celebration. Now I demand of you in their memory that you will never touch a drink again without remembering their lives. I hope that you will stay relatively sober in penance for that ignorance."

It was reasoning that any other crewmember would have surely laughed at. But the reasoning was not false McCoy knew when applied to himself. Spock had known how to reach him and his logic had not been wrong.

The Doctor rushed towards the other man. Looking into the depths of those dark eyes he searched for some humanity; something to join in his sorrow. All he saw was distance and all he knew was that he could not reach the man in the way he had been reached.

McCoy dropped him. "Leave," he whispered. "Just leave or shut up."

The human went to his bed and in pain and exhaustion he fell onto to it and slept, never knowing which action the Vulcan had chosen.


	8. Confessions

**_Chapter Eight: Confessions_**

* * *

The lesson Spock had to teach McCoy had worked. McCoy could not look at anything slightly alcoholic in the first few days following the tragic event of Deirdre and Channing without being violently sick. Soon the repulsion faded but the Doctor still wouldn't dare to take a drink. He did it in remembrance of the dead mother and lost child.

The Doctor's reputation as a drunk did not fade as quickly as Spock had seen to the demise of the actual vice, however. People still snickered or made jokes. To face them McCoy tried to drown them out by becoming as unreachable as a Vulcan. He developed a certain degree of respect for Spock, half-human as he was. McCoy found it not an easy task to be without emotions.

Drugs offered no comfort. Spock ensured that.

A few days after Habilcar's celebration, the First Officer could be found searching McCoy's Office.

"I cannot take away all the drugs from your office," Spock stated. "You are a physician after all. However, I will take these away and trust you to be wise."

The last was a threat, McCoy knew. With the previous lesson from the Vulcan, McCoy felt no urge to betray that trust. Still he felt the Vulcan used his control over Chapel, exploiting her affection to keep an eye on him. He'd often find her watching him or behind his shoulder.

Still that affection was waning, McCoy knew. Chapel went from fawning over the Vulcan to treating him with contempt. She was beginning to question her feelings for the man or at least her own morality and loyalty.

Finding out about the Doctor's new sobriety Kirk treated it with the same cruel mirth he treated everything.

"Physician heal thyself!" the Captain exclaimed. "You're a fine Doctor, old Sawbones. Isn't he a fine Doctor?"

The question was aimed at Spock.

"Yes," the Vulcan simply answered.

The Captain was dismayed while McCoy was shocked. The First Officer was obviously sincere.

"Well… Uh," Kirk mumbled. "Do you think I would accept anything less?"

"Not with the number of knives aimed at your back," McCoy agreed.

"Good point," Kirk said. "Which reminds me… Mr. Spock? Have you been able to find a replacement for my food taster? The last one didn't last very long."

The Vulcan nodded. "Yes. He will be at your next meal, waiting."

"I guess I should know his name."

"Ensign Williams, Captain."

Kirk nodded. "I hope you told him he gets the normal wage. I can't have people trying to poison me to get what they consider a good paying job. Still, they're getting so hard to find these days. Thank God women are not that way!"

As always, Kirk still found time for his sexual liaisons, McCoy knew. He had even slept with Chapel once. Of course, Kirk had believed that this would make the Nurse vulnerable. Whenever in Sickbay he would try to torment the woman about letting Spock know about the encounter. The Captain had been disappointed once again when this had not affected Chapel at all. He had envisioned and hoped for the opportunity to make his trips to Sickbay more fun and was saddened that this game would not continue.

"You broke my Nurse," McCoy told Spock once when the man was in his office.

The Vulcan just raised an eyebrow in question. "I do not see how I could have done this. I'm barely around Nurse Chapel."

"Maybe that's the problem," the human stated. "Why don't you just sleep with her, make it the most unpleasant event of her life so she'll be sick of you."

"If you knew about Vulcans you would know it does not work that way."

"Well," McCoy thought for a moment. "Tell me how it works. I would find it most… _fascinating_."

"I choose not to discuss it," Spock refused.

McCoy was becoming irritated. "Okay so I should know enough not to suggest that you sleep with Chapel but you won't let me know why not. That's not very logical."

"It is logical to know that humans would not understand us," Spock reprimanded.

McCoy sighed heavily. "You are half-human though. And the way I've seen most humans behave you'd have some trace of desire you'd try to suppress."

Spock studied him. "You do not seem to have these desires," he finally said.

"What the hell…"

"You do not seem to have these desires," Spock repeated. "I have heard of your conduct. While many would agree that you are sentimental, a fool and illogical, I have never heard of an instance of you searching for sexual gratification. Or maybe you are more… discreet?"

It was a shock to hear those words for it implied that the Vulcan had been inquiring or at least paying attention to his personal life and behavior.

"Checking to make sure I don't drink behind your back or have no plan to interfere with the Empire?" McCoy asked coldly, deciding finally that there could be no intimacy or interest from the First Officer.

"No," Spock said calmly. "The affairs of everyone on board this starship have a tendency to leak out. Sulu's desire for Uhura. Even Chapel's affair with Kirk. Still I have never even heard a whisper about your personal life. Since humans put great importance on fulfilling their needs I can not undersand why someone as irrational and emotional as you would behave so chaste."

McCoy's cheeks reddened. Disscussing his sex life with the Vulcan had made him feel a little too vulnerable himself.

"I…" McCoy stammered. "I just don't feel that need yet… I… I haven't been intimate with anyone since my divorce."

He had never told the fact to anyone, even his friends, as few as there were. Why he had decided to tell the Vulcan this was a complete mystery to the human.

Spock nodded. "I knew about your divorce. It seemed connected."

"Old Vulcan logic," McCoy said without the same contempt he usually used. "Of course, you side with my former wife. You probably don't even understand why she married someone as '_foolish_' as me in the first place."

"I would not say that, Doctor."

McCoy was the one to raise an inquiring brow now.

"I saw your treatment of Deirdre and Channing. That kindness and care towards women is not usual in this time," Spock explained. "While not being an ideal mate for a Vulcan, you showed yourself to be more than adequate mate for a human."

McCoy opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

Spock noticed the silence. "We are similar to each other in this way. No matter how slightly."

McCoy studied the Vulcan's face.

"I was set to be married at the age of 7. The marriage was cancelled."

"Did that upset you?' McCoy asked curious.

"No. I was not connected to her. It was merely an occurrence."

"Tell me," McCoy asked. "Is there no word for love in the Vulcan world?"

"There is indeed a word. But you would find, Doctor, that it holds no more power than understanding or logic."

"I should have known," McCoy said.

"Yes," Spock nodded. "You should have."


	9. Things Hidden Deep

_**Chapter Nine: Things Hidden Deep**_

* * *

The news that Chapel was leaving the Enterprise was as much a shock to Spock as it had been to McCoy. Of course, Spock had been oblivious to much of her actions to the day she had handed in her resignation. Yet he had been aware of her sudden change as much as anyone even if it was in his usual aloof manner. McCoy had spent more time with her and though he was unsettled by it at first when looking back he should have expected it.

"You haven't been exactly happy here, have you?" the Doctor asked the Nurse.

"As happy as you have been, Doctor," was what the woman replied.

He guessed she had been more miserable than he had expected.

McCoy was the one to enter the Bridge and walk up to Kirk and tell the Captain that the crew would be needing more help in Sickbay.

"Ahh…" Kirk murmured. "I will miss her. No one could fill out that outfit as well, I'm afraid. Still it's always nice having someone new around to conquer."

McCoy was about to comment but he saw Spock had turned away from the monitor to pay attention to the conversation. "Jump right on in if you have anything to say," McCoy suggested after an odd silence.

"I believe it will be hard finding a suitable replacement," Spock stated and turned back to the monitor.

McCoy looked to the ground. The simple statement had disappointed him. He had wanted someone else to share his grief about Chapel's departure. He cursed himself knowing he should not have expected any from a Vulcan.

"I'm heading back," the Doctor mumbled.

Chekov had once again returned to the Sickbay. The young man had a way of garnering angry confrontations. He wondered how long it would be until he found himself needing reprimanding in the horrible fashion the Terran Empire had discovered. It made him almost pity the boy.

Almost.

* * *

As Chapel waited for the shuttle to be ready that would place the Enterprise and its crew blessedly behind her, she was surprised to see Spock making his way towards her. In her hand she carried a small case filled with all that she wished to take with her. While months before the sight of the Vulcan there would have fostered images of solid pleas from him wishing her to stay, and other romantics, now it only caused a small chill in her heart and she quickly looked away.

"Come to say goodbye?" she said coldly as he stopped no more than two feet away.

"Yes. While our relationship has been strained I do believe that the Enterprise is losing a very respectable crew member."

The woman snickered. " The Enterprise losing a respectable crew member? Is that the best you can do? I guess you have never cared enough to lose anything. That will have to comfort me."

"If you are leaving in a way to coax out some softer emotion from me, or to hurt me in some way, I will tell you that it is ill advised."

"Don't you think I know that by now?" Christine spat. "I gave up on you months ago, Mr. Spock. I'm only sorry it wasn't sooner. You have made me cold. You have killed anything warm that existed inside me and I suppose I should thank you for that. I will be better able to survive in this world now."

"Do not blame me for…" the First Officer said but was interrupted when Chapel suddenly raised an ivory hand and brushed it against his cheek. The skin was smooth contrasting softly when the same hand scratched him deep.

Green blood seeped from the wound and Spock took the action with the same apathy he treated everything the woman did.

Tears crept to her eyes as if releasing the last of her feelings for the man. "You can bleed," she snapped. "Your blood is green but you can still bleed like the rest of us. McCoy probably knows that too. At least you can be passionate with him. You can argue and count your relationship just the same as you always did. But I don't exist at all. Just another stupid woman who was stupid to remain here when maybe it's not a woman either of you want."

A crewmember appeared, his appearance informing her that it was time to leave. On the man's face was a smirk and Chapel knew that it would not be long before the whole scene was talked about and spread across the starship.

"If there is any love left in this universe, I hope you find it" Chapel stated

Spock opened his mouth but was immediately interrupted.

"Don't take that as a compliment. I know how much you hate emotion. I offer it as a curse because I know nothing would scare or destroy you more."

With that she turned and headed to the man who waited, smiling to herself knowing that she had finally left Spock speechless and as momentarily weak as he had often made her feel.

* * *

That night Spock had the dream he usually did when some event occurred that he could not control and it had never been clearer than it had been after Habilcar's celebration and Chapel's departure.

The child was sitting next to his mother, all too aware that he was being studied and judged. Though he had heard his father, Sarek's, people did not try to harbor emotions he believed that their eyes were filled with distaste. He would have held onto his mother's dress but Sarek would gently pry the tiny hands away if he saw them resting there as he had already doneseveral time before.

That the other Vulcans were studying him and being cruel with their silent assessment, the boy did not mind. It was when he saw those same distant eyes rest on his mother that he was hurt. Amanda, a full human, would look down at her half Vulcan son and offer him a smile; A smile that seemed so sorely out of place among the straight lined mouths of the others. She offered the same smile to her husband and it was not as warmly accepted.

The gathering was of some importance though the child did not understand why other than he was uncomfortable and it was terrible to have to sit so long and without any sign of emotion or item to play with.

Speeches were made and it was Sarek speaking when a sudden sound was heard, obscene and violent amongst the silence of the Vulcan crowd. Pain seared through the child's arm and he screamed out and believed he earned more disapproving stares for this involuntary action. Blood weeped from his arm, thick and shocking to the boy it came from. It flowed down to the woman at his feet. She looked up at him, sadly caring more about the only child she would ever have life and safety more than her own. Her hand found his and green bled into red.

Amanda, wife of Sarek, mother of Spock, took one last breath, and with that breath, Spock believed all emotions fled from his life, and if the emotion known as pain was also taken with them he would not weep at their passing.

* * *


	10. Kehil Lay

_**Chapter Ten: Kehil Lay**_

* * *

The surface of Kehil Lay was barren. Snow covered everything, a thick layer of ice like frosting on a cake. There was little use for the planet, McCoy felt. Still the Terran Empire had sent them there so a use must have been found. Although what that was was beyond him.

"How the Hell should I know?" Lieutenant Sulu had snapped at him on the Enterprise.

"I don't know!" McCoy bristled back. "But I did hear you've been sent to join us."

Sulu shook his head. "You should go back to the bottle, Doctor. Even if you were still as unpleasant at least you had a reason for your stupidity."

McCoy looked at the man's smug smile and hit him hard on the mouth. "I'm still as touchy too," he stated and walked away.

Further interrogations of Kirk lead nowhere as well. "I can honestly tell you, old Sawbones, that I do not have a clue."

The Captain did seem as anxious as everyone else ordered down to the planet's surface, everyone except Officer Spock, who was as icy as the landscape of Kehil Lay. The man seemed to be made of the same substance as the cold. Infact he had seemed to grow much colder and distant from their last talk, McCoy had noticed. The old distance known previously had been repaired and reinstated. McCoy knew however that, separation aside, the Vulcan would know if he even looked at anything remotely alcoholic. He was a little tempted to lie about it, though he would never actually drink, the memory of Channing and Deirdre still prominent in his thoughts, but the wrath of the First Officer seemed preferable to his absence somehow.

It seemed crazy to the Doctor that he longed for the man's company. He needed a friend: Someone to care for and talk to. He still looked at Spock with suspicion, and did not like the man entirely finding him too inhuman, he desired his companionship. He felt too old and often times forgotten on the Starship, surrounded by others who were too busy, hating, lusting and destroying. As Kirk had said that long ago night when he had first introduced himself to Spock, there was no room for emotion on a vessel where control and power were worth more than all the compassion in the universe.

The requested corpses were not delivered to him but the injured number grew. The experiments around him unnerved him to the point where he ended up killing quite a few creatures to put them out of their misery, an event too eerily and uncomfortably similar to a painful event from the McCoy's own past. Still the Empire demanded him to take excessively more samples from species on new planets and they instructed him on what he should do to them. Though he felt a coward, McCoy hired two assistants to help him perform the instructions given. McCoy had hoped to be able to help the life forms on other planets now he found all he could do was find an easier way to help end their suffering.

"Have you been neglecting your duties?" Spock had asked once when the Doctor had stepped onto the bridge, several days after Chapel's leaving.

McCoy had looked at the Vulcan. He had searched the depth of the dark eyes hoping to see something remotely human. He had hoped that what had happened between the Vulcan and Chapel, the talk of the Starship for many days and nights after and also an event that had left Spock with a wound on his cheek, a wound that had healed inhumanly quickly, would have softened the alien. Still he could see nothing human at all and snapped "Never," although he knew it was a lie. "All I will say is that you were right to want me to remain here. The way the Empire is getting I think that without me here you would have run into quite a few problems."

Spock had only shook his head and turned back to the monitor he was staring into.

Then the mysterious orders to go to Kehil Lay had come. When he had first been given the orders to go by shuttlecraft to the tiny world he had been relieved but the relief had turned to doubt and finally once again suspicion.

It had been Spock who had told him that he was to accompany the Captain. "I will be going also," the Vulcan informed.

"Misery loves company," McCoy mumbled.

In the tiny shuttlecraft sat a handful of familiar faces. Kirk was there. He was quick and snappish, resenting his own ignorance, concerning what the Empire wanted. Sulu was wearing a scowl on his scarred face. Wilson, a man in a much lower position was present as well. He looked like he was relishing being present while the others were agitated or confused.

Two other Officers were present, one female and one male. McCoy knew that the girl's name was Amy Brown. She was the daughter of a well-respected Admiral. She was one of the rare women in the Empire to have escaped the usual bedroom tactics on her climb to importance and esteem. That climb had been halted for one reason: The man sitting beside her. His name was Toby Argyle. He was much lower in rank and McCoy wondered what purpose he even served on this mission. Often the man and woman held onto one another's hands when they thought no one was looking and McCoy averted his gaze often so they could keep the contact.

"How are your experiments doing these days?" a calm voice asked and McCoy looked to his right where Spock was sitting.

"You read all the reports so why don't you tell me?" the Doctor replied wryly.

The bearded man raised an eyebrow. "I do not wish to embarrass you with a public response. There is no better Doctor in the Empire. Your hesitation in experimenting is your only flaw."

"Ironic you'd say that when the reason why you want me to stick around is so I won't force you into becoming a Vulcan lab rat," McCoy grumbled. "Besides I don't really see how it matters what kind of Doctor I am when it doesn't matter in the end who lives or dies now does it?"

Spock ignored the man's words. "The crew members you have hired to do the work assigned to you are pathetic. They lack the knowledge to perform tests properly It endangers the mission."

The Doctor remained silent, not disagreeing.

"I will offer to do the experiments for you," Spock stated.

McCoy was startled. "Why?"

"Do not think that my interests are for your welfare, Doctor, or for my own," Spock stated.

"Well thanks for your kindness, "McCoy snapped.

Spock continued further ignoring the comment. "I want the tests performed properly and no one has the right credentials but you. Yet you have succumbed to your own frailties. I am a Science Officer remember. I would do them correctly. I would also find it highly rewarding and fascinating to find new discoveries."

"Who wants the fame now?" the older man asked.

"I do not want fame," Spock insisted. "You can have all the acclaim if you want. To Vulcans knowledge will always be beneficial and most rewarding. Although, I'm sure if I _willingly_ accepted your intention to study me you would not hesitate."

McCoy was confused if he should thank the man or hit him. Knowing a fair bit about Vulcan strength, without much studying, he decided on the latter.

When the shuttlecraft landed the crewmembers exited. Only Kirk remained behind.

"What is he doing in there?" Sulu shouted angrily over the wind.

Officer Brown looked warily at Ensign Argyle.

"I suppose you don't know what's going on here either?" McCoy said in a much lower voice than Sulu, relying on the Vulcan's impressive hearing.

Spock remained impassive. "I do not know. If I did I would probably not be permitted to share that information with you."

McCoy nodded, the answer not completely unexpected. He looked around, studying the people around him and for the first time the randomness of the group sent to Kehil Lay struck him.

"Doctor?" Spock said noticing the other man's expression.

"I just… I don't know…" McCoy searched for words he could not find.

Suddenly Kirk stepped out from the shuttlecraft. He seemed different from the pensive state that had possessed him before. His confidence and ruthless humor had returned.

"He knows why we're here finally," McCoy thought and shivered, not from the cold, but from the realization.

"Sulu, Brown and Wilson," Kirk addressed the men and woman. "Follow the reading until you find a Dilithium storage unit. There should be one several feet ahead. There is also a hut there for the local inhabitants. Contact the Enterprise and have them beam aboard the Dilithium. Rest in the hut until further orders. McCoy, Spock and Argyle follow me. The Empire has requested that we contact a group of rebels residing on this planet. They have been resisting the Empire's orders and become violent. We will have to take care of them and talk with them _peacefully_."

Spock raised a brow and looked at McCoy. The Doctor knew that there was a reason for the Vulcan's reaction but was as oblivious to what it he was to why there were there.

The group divided, Brown and Argyle sharing one look of concern and fear as they were separated.

"Follow me," Kirk said, a smile on his lips that was anything but reassuring.

They walked for a long time and as they did the cold invaded McCoy's heart and body. Even Spock staggered, almost beaten by the cruel wind but conquering it always. When McCoy almost fell into the thick snow the First Officer was there to steady him. No emotions evident on his face.

Continuing on, and fighting the wind, the three men watched as Kirk unexpectedly turned around. His eyes were sparkling with some unknown joke.

"I think this is far enough," the Captain said. He pulled out his communicator. "Scotty? Is the Dilithium there yet?"

"Aye Captain."

"Good. Do as you were instructed then."

Spock and McCoy looked at one another. Argyle looked behind at the footsteps in the snow, markings of each step that had led him so far away from his lover.

The familiar sound of an item being beamed down battled the howl of the wind. It was close to Kirk's boots. As the Captain picked it up, McCoy finally realized what it was. At first he thought that the weapon was aimed at him but knew he was mistaken as the blade of the crossbow threw through the air and found it's way to Argyle's heart. Blood sprayed everywhere obscene against the pure white snow. The Doctor cursed himself for the relief he felt knowing he had never been the target. His eyes found Spock. The Vulcan stood still, the look on his face was unlike anything McCoy had ever seen there before. For the first time there was clear emotion and it was fear. His eyes were that of a child who had awoken in the middle of a nightmare.

As Kirk focused on them, McCoy looked at Spock, concerned that the Captain would see the effect the incident had made on his First Officer but at some moment the Vulcan had regained his composure; the only remnant a bead of sweat on the man's cheek. It seemed absurd to McCoy that it could have been a tear.

"Well now that that's done we can head back now. It's too damn cold here!" the Captain exclaimed. "First you'd better confirm that he's dead though, McCoy. We can't have any trouble."

McCoy bent down to the man. He looked at the young man's face, eyes open and horrified. "He's dead," the Doctor confirmed.

"Thank Heaven!" Kirk exclaimed. "I hate shoddy work. Now let's get going and make it convincing won't you? Admiral Brown worked it out pretty well. He wants us to say the rebels did it. We escaped but poor Toby… Ah Well… It will look like a hostage situation. In a few days he'll disappear and be assumed dead. Maybe Amy will need some comforting. She's not a bad looking girl at all, is she?"

McCoy and Spock stood still staring at the corpse. Kirk came and stood between them. "There is a corpse for you, Doctor. If you can find a way to drag it back to the shuttlecraft without Amy or anybody else seeing it feel free."

* * *


	11. Storm

**_Chapter Eleven: Storm_**

* * *

Kirks hope of comforting a distraught young woman went unrealized.

As soon as Spock, McCoy and their Captain began to make their way back to the other party, the sky above Kehil Lay darkened.

"It is beginning to storm," Spock said his voice even more detached than ever.

McCoy looked at the man he was closest to on the whole of the Enterprise and frowned. Obviously the assassination that had taken place in front of them had affected the Vulcan in an unknown way.

Kirk looked at the sky and swore. By the time they reached the hut where Wilson, Brown and Sulu were waiting, with a small group of strangers, Captain, First Officer and Doctor were covered in snow.

As they entered the room, the sole woman looked worried. Her eyes immediately searched the group for her lover but never rested on what she sought.

Kirk explained to her the story he had been asked to: Lies and not truth.

Amy turned as white as the snow that still covered the three men and for the first time she noticed the blood covering them. Then she started to scream.

McCoy covered his ears, not from the volume of the sound, which was disconcerting enough, but from the pain it held; pain she had every right to feel.

The moment she had started to scream, Kirk had grabbed her to stop her from running for the door. Brown started to fight, clawing Kirk and attempting to break free and search for the missing Argyle.

"McCoy shut her up!" Kirk ordered while restraining the woman.

McCoy did as he was instructed, as much for the girl's sake as for the Captain's. Nothing could, in truth, stop her pain. He had seen the truth of what had happened.

Even this, though, did not fully silence the woman. She kept sobbing and whimpering on the floor. Finally she was knocked out completely. Kirk stared at her quiet form and sighed.

"I can't stand that all night," Kirk stated. "Besides this hut is far too small. Sulu!"

"Yes Captain," the man came to Kirk's side.

"You and that other guy take her to the shuttlecraft and return to the Enterprise immediately."

A look of fear crossed the helmsman's face and he looked at the door. "Captain we'll be killed!" he snapped.

"Not if you're a good enough, pilot," Kirk replied.

Seeing the complete and dreadful seriousness of the orders, the two men dragged the woman into the storm outside. It was clear, however, that Sulu had marked down the injustice in some hidden part in his brain. The Captain had made, yet again, one more enemy.

Spock was staring at Kirk. The look in the alien's eyes managed to make McCoy take a step back.

"It is illogical that you would not let the woman search for Argyle incase she was hurt yet you have sent her possibly to her death now," Spock commented.

Kirk turned and looked at Spock. He seemed slightly shocked at the tone the man had taken. Usually the relationship between Captain and First Officer was, if not peaceful, calm and understood.

Kirk adopted his usual mirthful manner quickly but there was an edge of annoyance to it. He walked over to Spock and patted his face condescendingly.

"It is not logical to make one of our rank have to be subjected to a bitch's whimpering and have to share such small quarters with insubordinates."

Spock did not look appeased yet he did not open his mouth again.

"We will have to share this room and hope that it is at least, comfortable," Kirk said looking around.

At this statement, one of the strangers approached the Captain. He was a small man with a thick beard and a wild look in his dark eyes. His forehead was ridged and his skin was pale green. In lips deeply ringed with metal, he began to talk.

"There is a room not more than 6 feet from here that would suit you," the man spoke. "It is saved for only the best and most noble men that find themselves here. As it is, since rarely do, it is clean and waiting for you."

Kirk stared at the man. It was obvious he did not like the stranger's appearance. His lip curled in disgust. Still the promise of more suitable quarters for the night had garnered his attention. "Well at least show me the place first so I can decide for myself."

The stranger smiled, and taking the Captain's arm, led him from the room.

He never returned and McCoy guessed that the room was suitable or that Kirk had been murdered. Either way he didn't really care. Not at the moment.

McCoy smiled to the other men still in the room. They looked at him and Spock and walked out through the door into the storm.

Spock watched them while McCoy collapsed to the floor. He pulled towards him a fur from some unidentified animal that had been supposedly been used often as a blanket. McCoy leaned back and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Spock was still standing and staring at the door.

The Doctor did not feel quite bold enough to ask why Argyle's death had reached him on some human level. However, he was comfortable in asking why he was peering at a closed door.

"The man that left with the Captain. He was not a true native of this world …"

The words trailed off and Spock continued to look blankly at the door.

The statement was correct when the Doctor contemplated it. The few men who had left, shared only the humanoid aspect of the man who had left with Kirk. Other than that they were drastically different from their form of features to the color of their skin. However, he was too tired to find it as much of an interesting matter to explore as Spock seemed to.

McCoy smiled sadly. "As your physician, I order you to lie down and try to get a good sleep. Tomorrow promises to be just as Hellish as today and I think we should both get our strength up for it and be ready."

The Vulcan turned around. " _We_, Doctor?"

"There's nobody else in this confounded room," McCoy said and turned his back to the man.

Mere seconds later, he heard Spock taking off his outer covering and knew that the man was removing any of the clothing that was stained with blood, though it was foolish to do so in the coldness of the room. He then felt Spock sit down close to him and grab part of the blanket.

"Get your own damn blanket," McCoy complained with no real animosity.

"It seems to be the only one in here," Spock replied.

"Well then don't hog so much of it!"

Though, there was plenty of space in the room now since so many others had vacated it, the two men slept close to one another. Feeling the coldness surrounding them, and feeling the warmth of the back pressed against his own, McCoy wanted nothing more than to roll over and hold onto that warmth, though it came from such a cold figure. He wanted to wrap his arms around the body to his side and desired to feel arms wrapped around himself. What disturbed him the most was that he could not take the first step and initiate the contact.

However when it came to words he felt no hesitation.

"What happened out there Spock?"

Silence for a moment.

"Concerning what Doctor?"

"When Kirk killed Argyle… I looked at you and you were scared."

"I do not wish to discuss the matter with you," the Vulcan's voice was distant even though he was lying so near.

"If you don't then you don't," McCoy said and turned around.

There was silence once again.

"My mother's blood was red," Spock said.

McCoy did not know how to respond nor did he completely understand its meaning, except for the violence strongly hinted at. He fell asleep arguing with himself if he should press the matter or not, while beside him the Vulcan could not sleep, not wanting to face any dreams that may come, or worse, memories.

* * *


	12. Something of Interest

**Chapter Twelve: Something of Interest**

* * *

While Spock and McCoy were spending an uneasy first night together, Kirk had been led into a room that, while was without most of the luxuries he was use to, was not without comfort and much preferable to the other crowded room.

"This will have to do, I suppose," Kirk said eyeing the room and trying to appear casually uninterested and ungrateful.

The man who had offered him the room was standing feet away, hands clasped together and looking anxious. Kirk looked at him and smirked. "Yes. This will do."

He waited for the man to take the silence as a hint and leave.

"Yes… You can go now," Kirk said making a motion for the door and talking to the stranger as if he were a child.

"Please sir there is something I must…"

"I'll inquire if the Empire can compensate you for this," Kirk lied knowing the Empire never would and he had no intention of either. "Now I must insist that I get some rest. I had a… shall we say '_hectic_' day."

The Captain spread his arms showing off his bloodstained apparel.

The man looked at the blood. Though Kirk had expected him to flinch or cringe in terror, the stranger simply smiled.

"I can see that you have," the man said in a smooth voice.

Kirk decided instantly that he liked the man even less than he had originally thought. He was too much like himself: minus the good looks, of course.

Before he could say another word, however, the man bowed and left, lifting up a moldy curtain and revealing a door, which was opened and then closed, the man offering one more nod before he disappeared.

Kirk ran a hand through his damp hair. Sighing, he looked at the large bed and marked it as being much too large.

"Of all the planets to have to spend a night on…" the Captain grumbled, starting to remove his clothing. "I have to land on one without the fairer sex nearby!"

When surmised that the bed sheets would be enough to keep him warm, Kirk stripped down to his undergarments and tried to fall asleep without someone next to him.

It had been the first time in months he had had to make do without '_company_'.

* * *

It was the sound of the lock being turned that awoke the Enterprise's Captain. He had been sleeping soundly, but being a man whom earned a death threat mostly every Stardate, he had learned to keep his ears always listening or someone standing watch at his door.

He listened and waited, as he heard the curtain fall back into place and the sound of several careful footsteps being taken, before he rose and pinned the intruder to the wall. Having taken into account those death threats, Kirk had also taken great measures to make sure that he was a strong and agile man as well. He would not die easily though many had wished he would.

It was no surprise to find the stranger, who had shown him the room, dark eyes meeting his own.

"When I had wished for a little company you weren't quite the type I had in mind," the Captain said.

James T. Kirk kept the same intense pressure around the man's throat, ready to crush it in an instant, although he did not feel the man struggling at all. The alien seemed to be just as confident as he had been before he left.

"Still you better hope that it was my good looks that brought you back in here," the Captain stated. "Because if it was for some other reason you'd better start praying to whatever non-existent Deity you believe in."

The alien brought a hand up to the arm pressed against his throat and smiled. "Let me talk to you," the man managed to mumble and sound surprisingly intelligible.

"Why should I?"

The alien grinned. "I have something that may interest you."

Kirk let him go, understanding why the man had not struggled: he had come to make a proposal. "Do you now?"

The other man massaged his throat, where a red rim was appearing quickly. "My name is Nan De Zheel. I do not belong here."

It was something the First Officer had noticed immediately but something the Captain only realized now.

"I was exiled here by my people…"

"I don't believe that I know your species," Kirk commented. "I think I would have."

"Maybe if you had seen a female of my kind you would have," Nan said silkily. "They are not easily forgotten."

"Talk quickly before I find myself liking you," Kirk said.

Nan continued to feel around his neck. "As I said, I was exiled."

"And may I ask _why_?" Kirk interrupted in a condescending manner.

"I murdered a man. A scientist. I was his underling. He didn't pay me half what I was worth…"

"You're skirting around the part that you claimed would interest me."

"All good things in time…" Nan cooed. "I believe that you have many enemies."

"You would be right," Kirk nodded.

"I believe that you made another today. That girl. You killed her lover didn't you?" the alien's voice held no sadness. He rejoiced in the cruelty of the action he knew had been done.

Kirk smiled. "Do you really expect an honest answer?"

"No," Nan said. "I know it. I saw the blood on your clothes. She did too."

"Yes," the Captain stated. "I have enemies. Everyone in power does."

"But does everyone have a way to make those enemies simply vanish; no blood to even stain guilty hands?"

Kirk sat down on the edge of the bed he had been sleeping peacefully in moments before.

Nan smiled. He clasped his hands together and danced in one place knowing he had the other man's attention. "The scientist I killed. He had a laboratory… a secret one. I'm the only one who knew of it. When I killed him I didn't have time to go back there or else they would never have gotten to me and placed me here!"

The alien's mirth turned to anger. "The scientist had a certain invention I know that you would love," he continued trying to contain the violence he was clearly feeling.

"And you would give it to me for free?" Kirk asked.

"If you get me free off this place you can have anything in that lab you want," Nan proposed. "I just want my freedom and a place where hands don't turn red from the cold. You have not been here long. I have. If you stay here long enough you can never get warm again. You can drown yourself in another man's blood and it wouldn't be enough."

Kirk studied the alien. "And you offer me this weapon for freedom alone? How kind of you."

"I would require a bit of wealth to ensure my new freedom is _comfortable_," Nan bowed his head in pretend shame.

"Of course,' Kirk said.

He looked at the ground and considered it.

"What do I have to lose?" the Captain made his decision quickly. "I warn you though that I have ways of my own, without this weapon, to make you disappear forever if you cross me."

The Captain smiled.

"Of course," Nan grinned, showing sharp teeth, Kirk noticed for the first time, were stained in red.

* * *


	13. Uneasy Sleep

Chapter Thirteen: The Pain of the Past

* * *

Although, Kirk was taking steps to secure his position as the most feared, if not respected, man in the Empire, McCoy's unease was not due to any sixth sense about what was happening only several feet away but instead from the slow steady breathing of the Vulcan next to him.

It was dark but some as yet unidentified glowing object in the corner gave eerie light to the room, enough so that the Doctor could make out the naked shoulders of Lieutenant Spock. They were the same pallid, yellowing shade as the rest of the man. Being a Doctor he had touched many skin to skin, although the advancements in medical technology had prevented most of the contact known in past centuries.

He felt himself more anxious to study the Vulcan physiology than before but was startled that it was not purely for scientific reasons. It was tied in with desire, hand in hand, a powerful feeling he had not felt in a long time. For the first time he realized that mild interest had turned into a potent yearning.

Glimpsing the purity of that skin McCoy wondered how it would feel. He wondered if the beauty of it continued to the other areas of Spock's body. Was it cool to the touch as the man's demeanor was? He wondered if it was smooth and what the skin would feel like against his own, then immediately afterwards and very strongly, he wondered what it would feel like against his lips if he were to kiss along the length of that back.

Immediately after this thought, McCoy believed he was going crazy.

How many nights had he spent with Jocelyn looking at the curve of her back, the swell of her hips and chest and felt nothing as much as even a passing interest? Now lying next to a man who held, he believed, nary a passing interest in him, he was finding it hard to stop the desire that was coursing through him. His hands were traitors as were his thoughts.

Sighing, he turned over in bed, determined not to see the sleeping figure of his bedmate. It was pointless though. McCoy found himself constantly seeing the smoothness of that skin, kept imagining himself touching it, kissing it and he found himself even more aroused.

Quickly he returned to facing the way he had been but only momentarily. He threw the covers completely over Spock so he would not have to see any part of him.

Besides, the Doctor thought wryly, he needed to cool down anyway.

In the morning, McCoy awoke as he felt the blanket tossed back on himself. He watched as Spock stood, the strong shoulders more visible since more light was forcing itself into the room. He saw the strength in the finely honed body. He cursed himself for feeling attracted even more than ever.

"I did not need the blanket, McCoy," Spock stated in his usual reserved manner.

"The Hell you didn't," the Doctor snapped back. "I saw your shoulders shaking all last night."

It was a lie but McCoy believed he pulled it off admirably.

Spock was silent and the human understood the man was afraid he had been shivering from something other than the cold.

"Your teeth were chattering too," McCoy added, hoping that this would somehow calm the man, reassuring him it had been because of the temperature and nothing else.

Although he wasn't thanked for it, the Doctor knew it had worked.

* * *

"Why on earth is he coming with us?" McCoy demanded when Kirk told them that his guide to better lodging the previous night was coming back to the Enterprise with them.

"Captain, I must admit I concede with the Doctor's opinion," Spock added. "It may go against the Empire's wishes and concerns."

"It would do nothing of the sort, I can tell you both," Kirk answered.

"But the man is clearly not a native of this planet. Obviously he came here under unknown circumstances."

"If that's what's worrying you, the Empire had nothing to do with his exile. It was his own people who screwed him so let's just finish this conversation?"

If Kirk's severe tone had no effect on silencing the other two men the look of mounting anger in his eyes did.

Kirk pulled out the communicator and flipped it open. "You'd better have them send another shuttlecraft down, Scotty. Don't let Sulu pilot it though. We aren't on the best terms, so to speak."

"Why can't we just beam back onboard?" McCoy grumbled.

The Vulcan did not look at the Doctor but replied anyway. "Pretense. They want it to look as if Kehil Lay is unable to be reached by any other transport. The abduction and subsequent death of Ensign Argyle will not look as suspicious than."

McCoy studied Spock's face, feeling the man was intentionally avoiding meeting his eyes. It was hard for McCoy to forget about the effect of Argyle's death on the staid alien. He had not forgotten about the man's words during the previous night.

In the time after, waiting for the shuttle to arrive, Spock had distanced himself from the other three men. Nan De Zheel seemed barely able to contain his anxiousness to finally leave the barren world he had been sentenced too for whatever reason Kirk and him alone knew.

Knowing now that Spock would not be listening, McCoy approached Kirk.

"Captain, may I speak with you?"

James T. Kirk looked around. "No. You'll have to stand in line."

Whatever motivated the man to bring Nan aboard the Enterprise, McCoy knew it had made the Captain in a very good mood.

As good a mood as Spock's had become disturbed the previous night.

"Do you know of anything that may have happened to Spock's mother?"

"You mean you never heard of it?" Kirk's mouth fell open in genuine surprise. "No. Well I guess the matter was hushed up. The Vulcans were rather ashamed of it: ashamed about it almost as mush as they were about Sarek marrying a human. Still, Sawbones you disappoint me! I guess, though, it's just Spock's body you're after."

The words struck the Doctor, considering the events of his earlier nighttime thoughts, and he was glad that the redness on his face could be attributed to the cold weather rather than the true reason.

"She was assassinated. During one of _their_ important and sacred ceremonies I've heard."

"Was Spock there?"

"No idea," Kirk said but his words were false. McCoy knew the man was not a fool and smart men made it their business to know all that they could. However, the Doctor knew that he didn't need to research the matter. Spock's words had told him all he needed to know.

"They claimed it was a Romulan attack. One of their weapons was used. A rather grisly looking thing. A cross between a javelin and an arrow, I think."

"You don't believe that it was the Romulans though?" McCoy commented.

Kirk smiled. "Would you? It was never a secret that the Vulcans were not pleased with the marriage. Some were quite vocal, surprising for them actually. They compared it to a man marrying a pig."

McCoy looked at his hands and Kirk now ignored him, finished with the conversation.

In a few minutes the shuttle could be seen appearing in the clear blue sky.

"Finally!" Kirk exclaimed. "I'm starting to lose feeling in places I really don't feel like having amputated. Shall we all go then?"

McCoy looked behind him and saw Spock approaching. This time he averted his eyes not wanting the First Officer to see any pity in them.

* * *


	14. A Sudden Departure

* * *

Chapter 14: A Sudden Departure

* * *

"He bit me!"

McCoy nodded while still examining the nasty wound on Chekov's arm.

"All I did was comment on how ugly he is."

"That's all!" McCoy exclaimed wryly. "I don't see why."

"Thank you."

Obviously sarcasm was declared null and void when it came to the Ensign.

"Why did the captain allow such a disgusting creature onboard?"

McCoy sighed. "There's always some method to his madness."

He did not add that Nan's presence surely had some effect on Kirk's power and wealth.

"He is a terrible Captain."

Although McCoy didn't detest Chekov any less than Kirk he did not disagree.

"You're going to be fine. I've treated it," McCoy tried to reassure the younger man. "It won't become infected."

Chekov frowned and pulled down his sleeve. "You are the Enterprise's physician are you not? Is there any possible way you could remove that thing's teeth?"

McCoy shook his head. "No."

It was the truth. While feared and looked at with general repulsion, Nan De Zheel was being treated like royalty under the Captain's command. The only thing denied him was freedom. Three guards traveled everywhere with him, continually keeping watch. The alien did not seem to care, though. He had a room for himself, all the food and drink he could devour and all the attractive female crewmembers he could leer at.

The last he had seen Nan had been drooling over Uhura. She seemed to think he was cute and adopted him as some kind of odd pet. At least, she suffered his affection more than she had ever done with Sulu's.

"Well what about quarantine?" Chekov snapped as he stood and pulled down his sleeve.

"Maybe he should be kicked off the ship. The Empire's rules of…"

"Of what!" McCoy shouted. "Look around this place! Do you think that the Empire cares any bit about your health and safety?"

Chekov looked around and McCoy closed his eyes. He knew all too well what surrounded him. Hundreds of rusted and caked with blood instruments, more apt for torture than for healing. The beds were soiled. The place had been in shambles when Chapel had worked there and it had gone even more downhill since her departure.

He heard Chekov swear and opened his eyes to see the back of the man storming off.

McCoy knew he would see him sometime soon again. The boy had no problem causing and finding trouble. Or pain for that matter as well.

Several moments later the Sickbay doors whooshed open and the First Officer walked in.

"Spock," the Doctor greeted.

"Doctor there is no time for pleasantries," the Vulcan stated. "This is not a social call. The Captain has requested both our presence in his office."

"Couldn't he have just told me that himself?" McCoy grumbled.

"It appears to be some matter of secrecy."

"Does it have to do with that creature we took with us when we left?"

"I truthfully do not know," Spock said. "But it would seem logical that it would pertain to exactly that."

"Well let's get going. The surprise may kill me," McCoy snapped and brushed past the other man, making sure to make brief contact with the man and then walk on ignoring it.

* * *

The elevator ride to the bridge shared by Spock and McCoy was tense.

The human had avoided the Vulcan's company several times, afraid the other man would see the pity in his eyes. It was hard to forget what Kirk had divulged about Spock's past. Equally as hard as forgetting how much he had been attracted to the man the night previous to the revelation.

"You look tired," the Vulcan stated without looking at the Doctor.

McCoy jerked his head to look at the man. "I… Um… I haven't been sleeping well."

"Are you troubled by the events that occurred on Kehil Lay?"

McCoy blushed. "What?" he stammered.

"Are you also troubled by the Captain allowing an exiled alien aboard the ship he has been chosen to care for?" Spock further elaborated, calming the other man's worry.

"For as long as I've known him, James T. Kirk has only chosen to care for himself. That does not include this ship nor the people she shelters," the Doctor sighed.

"You suspect Kirk's motives to be selfish?"

"Yes. You don't?"

"I assume that he is concerned with his own desires," Spock theorized. "However, I do not see how they would be an act taken against the Empire. Considering this, I do not feel the need to go against his wishes."

McCoy looked to the ground. "_All hail the marvelous Empire!"_ he said with complete and unmasked bitterness.

Spock suddenly turned his head and gazed sharply at the Doctor.

The door whooshed open.

"Joy oh joy we're here!" McCoy said, and with a wry smile, stepped out.

Spock brushed past him, another quick moment of contact, and moved towards Kirk's office.

When they reached the room, Spock informed the Captain that they were there.

"Well hurry in here, why don't you!" Kirk said. "Sawbones isn't getting any younger is he?"

McCoy grumbled under his breath and followed Spock into the room.

The Captain was waiting. On his desk lay a traveling bag.

"Do you know what this is?" Kirk said, smiling at them, his feet crossed and lying on the desk before him.

"Are you going somewhere?" McCoy asked.

Kirk shook his head. "Now that's not an answer! That's a question!"

"McCoy's question is relevant. Are you leaving the Enterprise?" Spock asked.

Kirk swung his feet off of the desk. "Yes I am. But I'm coming back."

"Oh more _joy_," McCoy said sarcastically.

"I knew you'd miss me, old Sawbones," Kirk smiled.

"Is this part of the Empire's plans?" Spock asked.

"Not exactly… The thing is I won't be gone long… And I'd rather that the Empire didn't know about it. I also wish that maybe you would not share the information with anyone else while I'm gone. Especially anyone here."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "So I guess that's the reason why you called me here."

Spock raised an eyebrow and looked at the Doctor.

McCoy met his dark eyes and then turned back to Kirk. "You want me to lie and say you're in Sickbay don't you?"

Kirk beamed. "You are so much more alert than when you were drunk! Clever. I'm amazed you didn't figure that one out, Spock."

Spock turned and looked at the Captain. "McCoy is an observant man."

Kirk typically shrugged the compliment to the other man away. "I will be taking Nan with me."

"Thank God for small favors," McCoy exclaimed.

"I will be coming back. He won't be," Kirk stated.

"Thank God for even more favors."

"Well you should be thanking me more but I'm a tolerant man," Kirk lied.

"You want me to also try to conceal that you are not on the Enterprise?" Spock stated.

"Yes."

"I will not lie for you," Spock stated. "But I will try to keep your secret."

Kirk nodded. "The least I can ask of you."

"Can I go now?" McCoy asked.

Kirk pretended to be shocked. "But you didn't even pry and ask where I'm going and what I'm doing?"

McCoy started to walk towards the door. When he reached it he turned and looked at the Captain. "Would you tell me?"

Kirk contemplated. "No."

"Then let's not waste one another's time. Oh is there any particular sickness you'd like me to concoct for you?"

"Anything but something questioning my virility."

McCoy smiled. "Heaven forbid."

"If you say that I'll cut off your balls, McCoy," Kirk said testily.

McCoy frowned. "All right."

The Doctor turned and looked at Spock who was not following him. "Well… Are you coming?"

"No," Spock answered. "If I am not wrong, the Captain has more to discuss with me."

Kirk nodded. "Ah back to your clever self. Yes. I do."

McCoy smirked. He looked at Spock once more and then left.

"Poor old McCoy," Kirk cooed. "A pity. You know I keep him here as an act of pity?"

Spock raised his eyebrow once more.

"No other Captain would have him: Too emotional, too forgetful and getting ancient far too quickly. I slept with his wife once, you know? That was an act of mercy too."

"That is a _unique_ viewpoint," Spock commented.

"Look at it this way," Kirk stated. "A woman only goes looking when she's not getting what she wants right? I slept with her so her husband wouldn't have to."

Spock did not comment. "Why did you wish me to stay, Captain?"

"Well, as I was saying with Sawbones, he needs me. He would fall apart without me. I can trust him doing whatever I want and not holding any plans of betraying me."

Kirk stopped and examined the Vulcan.

"You cannot trust me? Is that what you are hinting at?"

Kirk stood. "Oh I trust you! I think you'll do what is best for the Empire. I just hope that you understand that I do as well. I just want to stress that if you continue to work for me, the Empire will also flourish. I have its best interests at heart."

Spock did not speak a word.

Kirk furrowed his brow. "If someone should make an attempt at the Captaincy while I'm gone I hope I can count on you to defend my role here on the Enterprise."

"If that is what concerns you most, I give you my word."

"Good," Kirk nodded. "Good. I must also state that I hope to find the Enterprise, when I return, the same as when I left it."

Spock nodded this time.

"Excellent!" Kirk exclaimed. "Now get out of my office I have some packing still to do."

Spock bowed slightly before leaving the room.

When he had left Kirk slowly walked towards a wall. He reached around the back of a shelf littered with various trophies and items he had collected during his years in the Empire and before. When he pressed a button a secret compartment opened. Peering inside the box the Captain smiled and pulled out the only item it harbored.

The blade of the knife was sharp. Kirk smiled as he caressed it. It had been his weapon of choice when discarding of those in his path.

He knew he would soon be discarding it for a more complex and powerful tool.

Still it could be used one last time. When he wielded it next he would not wipe the blood of Nan De Zheel from off its blade. He would let it stain it, forever in remembrance of all the glory it had won him, christening it with one more victory to add to the rest.


	15. Goodbye Strangers

**_Chapter Fifteen: Goodbye Strangers_**

* * *

Moments after their discussion over his true intents, Kirk collapsed on the bridge.

Instantly knowing it was part of his plan, and slightly suspicious that Kirk did not trust McCoy wouldn't embarrass him with an _insulting_ ailment, Spock walked slowly towards the fallen Captain.

"McCoy you're needed on the bridge," Spock calmly contacted the physician after a brief look at Kirk.

As he entered the bridge, McCoy's initial concern faded quickly as he saw what the emergency was.

"Spock the Captain needs to be taken to Sickbay immediately," McCoy rolled his eyes. "I'll need your help taking him there. He's put on a few pounds since his last examination I see."

Kirk's frozen face twitched in annoyance.

Both the Doctor and First Officer carried the unmoving form of the Captain off of the bridge and to the sickbay. McCoy was grateful that Spock was carrying the man for the most part, since the Captain was taking the act to the extreme and not risking the chance of reviving until they reached their destination.

When they reached it, both McCoy and Spock discovered Nan De Zheel waiting there patiently, an unnerving smile on his face.

"How the Hell did you get in here?" McCoy demanded.

Nan flashed him a toothy smile.

"I gave him authorization," Kirk said as he suddenly became active once more.

"I should have known."

Kirk straightened his uniform. "I will stress once more Doctor: Allow no one else in here while I'm gone. It's far too risky that they'll learn I'm no longer here."

"And where do I treat the patients who come to me who are actually sick?" McCoy snapped.

"I don't know… your quarters perhaps? Nothing much interesting probably goes on in there these days. Or I could be wrong."

He looked between McCoy and Spock and the former suddenly felt very angry and edgy. He marched over to one of the sickbay cots.

Kirk turned to Spock. "Scotty has a shuttle waiting for me and my guest. I already informed him. I had his undying word that it would be conveniently vacant when I and Nan got there."

Suddenly Kirk's voice became quiet and he whispered something to Spock.

McCoy frowned. He hated the situation the Captain was forcing him and the Vulcan into. He was concerned for Spock who would have to take the brunt of the deception on himself.

Not realizing that he was being studied, Nan came over to the Doctor and whispered conspiratorially. "You know Doctor this particular setting is not alien to me. I once was a scientist and healer myself."

"May I ask what you did to get kicked off or shall I make a guess?"

Nan opened the palms of his hands in a gesture of feigned innocence. "I did what anyone else in my shoes would have done."

"And what a million men before you have done too, I'd wager," McCoy breathed deeply.

"I assume that your Captain has done the same many times before he saved me, as well."

McCoy turned and looked at Nan. There was a certain degree of worry, and yet quiet determination, on the alien's face.

"Let's just say I wouldn't feel exactly safe if I was in your shoes and had to spend too many hours alone with Kirk."

"I do not trust your Captain."

"Very wise of you. I'm pretty sure no one on board does," McCoy smirked. "Unless you count Spock over there who would probably say something along the lines of that we can trust him on being not trustworthy."

"He is a most unusual Vulcan," Nan commented. "He is a most unusual being all around."

"And you have been deeply interested in the First Officer? Deeply watching him," McCoy asked.

"Well… I would admit I have on a purely curious and scientific level. Not at all in the same fashion that you have, my good friend," Nan smiled.

McCoy looked sharply at the other man. "You're sounding more like a spy," McCoy stated. "I warn you I am not a wealthy or powerful man. Blackmail won't do you much good. Especially when what you see is only imaginary."

"Don't worry I will not tell on you. I won't be here for much longer," Nan added. "I make it my business to notice things. That is all."

"Well then… I am just dying to know why you're confessing all this to me," the Doctor replied in a tone of pure sarcasm

Nan cast a furtive glance in Kirk's direction. "Fear for one's life makes one want to be remembered. I fear I may not survive this trip."

"You are an observant man after all," McCoy complimented.

"I am a survivor as well," Nan said coldly. "I am not an easy victim. Your Captain may discover this for himself."

"Kirk will be alright. He can take care of himself," McCoy said.

The Doctor suddenly noticed Kirk coming towards them. "Well speak of the devil."

"No. What an terrible thing to say Sawbones!" Kirk shook his head. "I'm much better looking than him."

The Captain studied Nan. "Well my friend. Do you think it's about time to return you to your rightful place?"

Nan simply nodded his head.

"Good," Kirk smiled. He looked at McCoy with squinted eyes. "And I have your word that you'll remain silent?"

"Yes."

"And I have your word that you won't embarrass me too much?"

"Yes," McCoy grumbled.

"Well that settles that then. It is time for me to bid a hasty retreat."

The Captain looked at Nan, placing an arm around his shoulders in mock friendship.

Nan smiled his usual bloody toothed grin.

Spock walked towards the Doctor as Nan and Kirk left the sickbay.

"You know I kind of feel safer with him off the Enterprise," McCoy stated.

"I think we all will. I doubt his home world will celebrate his return," Spock nodded.

"I wasn't talking about Nan," McCoy smirked.

* * *

Later, alone in his office, the first steps of Kirk's master plan in effect, McCoy had a moment to take an unusual moment of rest and contemplation. In truth, he felt calmer with Nan off the Enterprise when remembering the alien's understanding that he had feelings for Spock. He also remembered Kirk's words and they disturbed him as well. If Nan had somehow realized from the little he had seen of Spock and himself his feelings for the Vulcan, Kirk, who made it his business as well to notice and manipulate any piece of information he could, would have understood it also.

McCoy was lost.

He had never been able to hide his feelings. His emotions controlled him for better or worse. He still did not understand or know what to do with his attraction to the Vulcan and did not want to consider how the Empire would treat it in return.

Sighing, McCoy placed his head on his desk. He kept it down for a long time trying to free him self from the panic he was feeling.

When he raised his head he felt no less assured or confident.

Staring absently ahead, the man looked at the shelf across from him and realized that something was somehow different.

Grasping to the distraction, the Doctor stood and walked towards the vacant space on the shelf. Where once two vials had stood, now there was only empty space, and the seed of a question. The question was not what had stood there. McCoy had kept a very rare poison sitting innocently there its antidote waiting ready and patient beside it. The question was where it had gone.

McCoy suddenly remembered Nan's earlier words of having been a scientist. It was obvious who had taken the vials and what his intentions would be. It was Kirk's own fault he had given him access to the sickbay and had trusted him alone in the office.

Shaking his head, McCoy knew there was no possible way to warn the Captain.

In the end he knew there wasn't really any need to. The Captain could take care of himself.

It was what he was best at, after all.

* * *


	16. The Philosophy of Montgomery Scott

Chapter Sixteen: The Philosophy of Montgomery Scott

* * *

All in all everybody swallowed the lie.

The only interest they seemed to have was how serious was the condition and how badly was Kirk faring. The only hope of many was that Kirk would die and they could celebrate. An enemy's death was greatly desired in the clockwork mechanicals of the Empire.

One person, however, seemed to refuse to swallow the lie.

"Now tell me the truth," Uhura silkily said to McCoy as they sat in the eating bay, the woman lying attractively on the table. "Kirk is not really sick? He's also not on board is he?"

"What makes you say that?" McCoy asked.

"If you have James T Kirk up there then a Klingon was my great Grandmother. I haven't heard some lurid tale of some new girl on board's first _'meeting' _with the Captain . I haven't heard of any _'company'_ being sneaked into his room either, for that matter."

"The Captain is a very sick man," McCoy said and didn't feel like it was completely a lie.

"Honey. That wouldn't stop him. That man likes sex almost as much as I do."

"Uhura," McCoy smiled. "Not one human being alive since Caligula liked sex as much has James T Kirk."

Uhura leaned in even closer. "That's what you think. Speaking of which…" She offered a lustily greedy smile and took one of McCoy's hands in her smooth one. "It's about time you put those Doctor's hands to more noble pursuits. How about you come up to my quarters when your work with Kirk is through. Which shouldn't take too long since the man isn't here."

McCoy shook his head in amusement.

"If you can you can convince Spock to come along that would be fine too. You good-looking men seem attached to the hip most of the time these days. The more the merrier."

This made the offer a little more interesting. McCoy looked down and contemplated it. It would at least offer a reason to be around the First Officer in a more _intimate_ manner. Still there was no way he believed that the Vulcan would agree to it and part of the Southerner felt too old-fashioned to be completely comfortable with the idea.

"I'm sorry but it has to be a no," McCoy said gently kissing Uhura's hand and placing it on her knee.

"What a shame," the woman said, offering another alluring smile and a wink before she slid from the table and searched for more willing company.

McCoy shook his head and headed away from the area and back to Sickbay. His thoughts were returning to Spock when he saw the man turning down a corridor and walking towards him.

"Doctor," the Vulcan nodded and started to walk back in the direction he had come from. "I went to the Sickbay but you were not there."

"I had to eat. Funny but I have a funny way of collapsing when I don't do that for days."

"I understand what you are saying but your sarcasm is not needed. I do not feel comfortable that the Sickbay was left unguarded. I do not appreciate that the Captain has not taken into consideration that we cannot keep this secret without at least letting a select few carry the burden with us."

McCoy, surprised by the irritation evident in the words, looked at Spock and wondered how he could have missed the signs of fatigue on the other man's face. The only explanation could be that he was too eager and hungry for the man's company that he had been ignorant. He cursed himself to have been so selfish.

The human knew he had avoided many of the situations he thought would have been caused by Kirk's pretend sickness by the fact that not many cared about the Captain's health. He had failed to realize, however, that it would not deter the eyes that were looking to replace the empty seat that represented so much power.

"I think you should go to your room and have a rest, Spock. You're right. Kirk shouldn't have left you with so much responsibility."

Spock stopped. "Do not get me wrong. I am pleased that he has entrusted me with his secret but I never wanted the Captaincy."

"You don't have to defend yourself," McCoy stated. "You can't be expected to do everything."

Spock looked down at the floor.

"That is my professional opinion."

Spock raised his head. He looked into the Doctor's eyes, and though he was suddenly quite shy, McCoy held the intimidating gaze.

"I will take into consideration your diagnosis, Doctor."

"I guess that's the best I can accept?"

Spock turned around and kept walking.

"Put your own needs on hold huh? I thought so," McCoy mumbled and followed.

When they reached the Sickbay and put in the pass code both men were shocked to find that the room was not empty.

Rifling through a box under a shelf but turning to look at them, was Montgomery Scott. He raised a hand and waved it.

"Guid eenin!" he exclaimed cheerfully.

"Land O'Goshen!" McCoy exclaimed in response. "And who will I find in my workplace next?"

"Aw now Doctor," Scott said. "Don't be upset. Kirk gave me permission to be here."

McCoy folded his arms. He looked at Spock and then both of them stepped into the Sickbay.

The Doctor waited until he spoke, not wanting to risk being heard. "I forgot you know about this little act too. How come it feels like Spock and I have had to carry this whole charade by ourselves?"

Scott shook his head. "Well it's the least you can do seeing as though neither of you have the most responsibilities."

Spock stepped forward. "I am dying to know your logic in that assumption."

"Well I'm the most important man on board this beautiful ship at the moment am I not?" Scott stood.

"I find that highly doubtful," McCoy replied.

"Even our missing Captain would say so! Well think about it for a moment," Scott smiled. "Do you think that the Captain really cares about any life onboard this ship? The Enterprise is the closest woman Kirk has ever came close to loving, is it not? I'm her physician. I know how to heal her and keep her living. That outranks even you, Doctor. I don't think you'd argue that Kirk cares one ounce for the human life onboard this ship?"

"You've got me there," McCoy nodded. "Now that that debate is finished…"

He turned to Spock and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, "Unless you have something to add?"

"No Doctor," Spock nodded. "I see that the Engineer's statement is 100 correct."

"Good now I can ask what the hell are you doing in my Sickbay without my permission and how did you get in?"

Scotty smiled. "I am the keeper and caretaker of this ship as I just stated. Don't you think that I could find a way into your area quite easily?"

McCoy frowned. "I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind."

The statement was rewarded with another confident grin. "Well I didn't have to go all under handed and sneaky like that yet. Kirk gave me the information this time and specific orders to make damn sure that you all are… Shall we say up to snuff?"

"I'm sure you could see that the plan is going well just from the talk and reactions of the crew," Spock stated. "You did not need to enter the Sickbay especially since Kirk, as you well know it, is not here."

Scott shook his head. "I cannae pull one past you can I? I remember a few months ago that I shared a glass of Scottish ale with the fine Doctor here. I was looking around to see if I could find any more."

"I gave up on that stardates ago."

"Old habits die hard," Scott said.

"Almost as hard as Engineers that sneak into my Sickbay," McCoy said coolly.

"Well you cannae blame a man for trying!" Scott said obviously offended.

"Please leave," Spock stated. "I have a problem of a personal nature to discuss with the Doctor."

Scott stared at the Vulcan whose face was as stony as ever.

"Personal huh," Scott said. "From you? That may be worth it to stay around for."

"Get out!" McCoy said. "I still have some Patient Doctor confidentiality ethic here, at least while Kirk's off the ship. Unless you really want to stick around because in that case I got a new cartful of different poisons to test out for the Empire and I would just be tickled pink if you would love to be my guinea pig!"

Scott frowned. He stomped towards them and gave them a look of pure malice as he left.

"So what's wrong Spock?" McCoy asked, trying to hide the curiosity he was feeling.

"Nothing is wrong Doctor," the Vulcan stated.

"What? You mean you were lying? Look what Kirk has done to you."

"No," Spock stated. "Well not exactly. You see I had a personal problem with being in the same room as Montgomery Scott but it seems like you healed me from my ailment."

McCoy felt the smile come to his face and did not have any desire to hide it.

"Now Doctor I will take your earlier advice and go to my room and rest," Spock nodded and turned to leave.

"If you need my help…"

"I will ask for it," Spock said.

* * *


	17. Fear of Sleep

_**Chapter 17: Fear of Sleep**_

* * *

Spock went to his room, as the Doctor had ordered, but he did not sleep. He chose to meditate instead and he repeated this pattern for several days afterwards, not telling McCoy the true reason why he was afraid to lie down and allow himself to sleep.

The Vulcan was reluctant to confess to the human, even though a certain closeness now existed between them, that he did not wish to dream.

He had reasoned in his mind, with his cool logic, that dreams were nothing other than a violation. A mental rape that rarely could be avoided. In dreams you were forced to live in a world void of rationality. You were expected to exist, no matter how momentarily, in a place you could not control or in which you chanced reliving memories you chose to forget while you were awake and had the strength to try to deny them.

Spock did not know if all Vulcans dreamt or if it was only him, yet another quality he had unfortunately inherited from his mother's humanity. He had often studied his father as he slept, and others of his Vulcan relatives, trying to discover if something in their expressionless faces would give them away. He did not have the courage to ask them while they were awake incase he offered them yet one more reason to look at him with disdain.

For the small amount of time he had had with Amanda he remembered that it had only been her to comfort him when he had screamed himself awake with a nightmare. He could not remember Sarek at all, not by her side, neither lurking in the background. It had been his mother's warm arms that had embraced him as he wept. It had been her gentle tone that had told him that it was not real, that all he had faced had been fantasy.

She had been the one to convince him that all nightmares could be erased by the simple act of waking. Tha, however, had been before he had discovered that it was not that easy. When she had gone, those first few months, had been a terror he could not escape.

He was left alone to dream of her death. He had been abandoned.

It was the Vulcans who had been the ones to save him.

In the first few weeks without her he had been ignored except for the wound on his arm that needed immediate treatment. The assassination of the wife of Sarek had momentarily thrown the calm planet of Vulcan into disarray. Spock remembered the constant whispers that had coursed through the silent world he had previously known. He had rarely been noticed and often had found his way to his room where he wept unseen.

When the day came that his father had summoned him to his side Spock had felt strong terror and the desire to be ignored once more.

His father had not sat while he told him what was going to happen. It made a strong image in the Vulcan's mind. Forever imprinted and compared inevitably with similar men of power who had felt the need to sit and tell others their futures.

Sarek had cast an indifferent look at his son's arm, now healed. When Spock had met his father's eyes he had looked for sorrow there.

"You will stay here," Sarek had said. "It has been decided that since we did not take the precautions to prevent your mother's death that your health and future lies in our hands now. We will make sure you receive the best education and that your needs are well met. Do you agree to this?"

After a brief moment Spock had nodded his head, an action mirrored by his father soon after.

There had been no choice for him really. He could no more have adopted the ways of humans than he could have escaped the nightmare of his mother's death. His younger self believed in fact that he had found none of his needs truly met. He was fed. He learned but he was not told how to stop dreaming. He was not taught how to deal with the hole his mother's death had left in his human heart.

Soon he had discovered his mistake that all the while they had been teaching him. To deny any emotion even pleasure or joy meant that the pain would be erased as well. The discipline of nothing but logic and knowledge, the acknowledgement of the brain and its power and the inadequacies of the heart, was reassuring.

They had taught him how to place his focus instead on logic that if pain and fear was taken away to be replaced on logic and reasoning than it would be better.

Amanda was dead. His mother's body was sent back to Earth and now lay decaying. But that same fate waited for them all. He would also eventually die and what would his sorrow do to prevent it or bring his mother back? His sorrow would leave in time, even by the approach of death, so what was the logic on holding onto it? Better to let it fade and to pursue higher levels of consciousness and learning. Dreams also were not recorded or remembered and marked for all time in history. They were ephemeral.

It had been empowering for him.

He had come to look at his younger self as someone different, and it wasn't a lie. That boy, that child, had been silenced as soon as he had adopted the way of his father's people. It was only when he dreamt that he returned to that boy and was in empathy with him.

He marked the current return of the nightmare to the events on the Enterprise. The catalyst had been Chapel's departure of course. It had been only after she had gone that he let himself realize the similarity visually to Amanda. Her constant fretting over him and concern had not aided the matter. It was only her growing apathy that had stopped him from completely recognizing the problem. Her leaving, however, had brought back that feeling and the knowledge.

The assassination of Argyle had further compounded the problem. It had not been outside of Captain Kirk's behavior to murder and it had not been the first act of violence that he had witnessed since joining the Empire. However, the murder and its cause had some similarity to his mother's death the First Officer knew. Spock also knew that his reaction to it had not passed by McCoy unnoticed. It had taken more than he had ever expected to try to keep down the fear that he had felt and the urge to vomit into the pristine snow already marked with blood. Even the thought of it several days after would produce in him a terrible case of shaking that he had had to control.

It was a credit to his father's teaching that he had been successful at all.

Yet, when he thought of the event and was forced to relive Amanda's death and to be a child once more, Spock was afraid that if he had looked long enough into his father's eyes he would not see sorrow there, only relief.

* * *


	18. Explosion

_**Chapter 18: Explosion**_

* * *

McCoy heard the commotion while he stayed frustratingly in the Sickbay. His first impulse was to find out what was going on, and if he was needed, but he calmed this, knowing that there was no way he could leave the room, and the knowledge that Kirk was not there, alone and unprotected. Especially not with the amount of people who seemed to be in on the security codes.

"McCoy to the Bridge," he finally tried, curiosity mounting, to make contact with Spock and find out what exactly was going on.

When all he received was silence, the Doctor tried once more, losing his temper more and more as the attempts failed.

"McCoy to the Bridge!" he finally screamed into the intercom.

"I hear your calls, Doctor, but I am unable to answer them," Spock's cool voice suddenly filled the room. "Needless to say you shall find out what is happening fairly soon."

"That will have to do, I guess," McCoy mumbled, not pleased at all.

"Yes it will have to," the Vulcan replied before his voice was gone and McCoy was left frustrated and alone once more.

It was much later, and only after a large explosion was heard outside the Enterprise, one that shook the ship dramatically for many minutes, and as McCoy was making his way towards the door, disregarding any previous orders, that Spock entered the Sickbay with a wounded man draped over his shoulders.

"Now, Doctor, I can give you the information you requested," Spock said as he walked to one of the beds and dropped the man, neither gently nor harshly, onto its surface.

McCoy was about to question the First Officer but the state of the patient stole his attention completely away. The man was dying. From several slashes on his face and body wept blood that would not stop. He seemed to have been through some horrible torture.

"Who the Hell is he?" McCoy asked not being able to completely identify the man past all the wounds.

"His name is Lieutenant Bailey."

McCoy thought for a moment. He did not fully recognize the name even more than he recognized the man now in his current condition. There was only some distant sting of a memory. "How did he get into this miserable shape then? Was he near the bomb?"

"No. He was the man who supposedly planted it," Spock stated. "We were told of its presence fortunately by an Ensign he had become close with."

"This friend," McCoy asked. "What was in it for them? Other than their life?"

"Do you really need to ask me?" Spock raised an eyebrow.

McCoy shook his head. It was obvious that whomever it was would no longer be merely an Ensign and as formerly _without_ power.

"Am I to treat him then?"

"Yes."

"Why?" McCoy asked confused to the reason. A traitor's life would not be considered important to save.

"I need to discover if he is truly guilty or merely innocent."

The human considered this for a moment. "You didn't do this to him then? I thought it might have been your _'investigation'_ into the matter."

"No. This is the work of Lieutenant Commander Scott. He reached the man first. Bailey was already unconscious by the time I arrived. He would have been dead if I hadn't found him and interrupted the interrogation."

"So it's important to _you_ to find out if he is innocent?" McCoy queried. "Is it for your own personal feelings?"

"You fail to understand me, McCoy. Emotions do not have anything to do with it. If I am to file a report, whether or not he lives or dies, it will make all the difference for its accuracy, when the Captain returns," Spock stated. "We reached the explosive only moments before it would have done its damage. There would have been no ship for Kirk to return to otherwise."

"Would that have been all that bad?" McCoy asked.

Spock fixed him with an inquisitive stare, one which the Doctor now matched.

"I am beginning to wonder if you are not only sentimental but suicidal as well," Spock said. He seemingly chose to ignore the answer, however. "Tell me if you cannot save him, Doctor."

McCoy watched as the Vulcan strode to the Sickbay doors.

"Why?"

"There is one way I can find out for sure if he is responsible. I will not be able to perform the method if the man is dead."

It took only a few minutes between the time McCoy informed Spock that he could not save Bailey's life until the moment the Vulcan once more appeared in the Sickbay.

"I did all I could," McCoy stated but the words seemed weak and only reminded him of his failure. He comforted himself with the knowledge of what miserable fate would have awaited the man, anyway, if he had been guilty and had survived.

McCoy watched as Spock walked to the dying man. The Vulcan carefully placed his hand on the side of Bailey's face. The Doctor soon realized what was soon going to happen. What Spock had been intending to do if the man would not live. It was the first time McCoy had seen it done while in a Vulcan's presence and he cursed his own anticipation.

Spock concentrated, his hand firmly clutching onto Bailey's face. Soon both men's faces contorted in pain and a vast wave of emotions.

Suddenly Spock wrenched his hand away from contact with the man. It was only shortly before McCoy, reading the signals, watched as Bailey died, gone off to whatever world lay beyond death.

It was a fair time later that Spock was able to compose himself and speak. "He did plant the bomb. It seems he was still angry over Kirk's decision to kill Balok and the agreement and willingness of the rest of the crew to follow orders. Bailey had been through great pain ever since that event occurred. He made it his task to exact revenge. He had been growing weary of the Empire for months. Balok's death was merely the catalyst for his actions."

McCoy suddenly remembered the event and Bailey. It had been a short time after the Enterprise's launch. Kirk had stumbled on the alien, Balok, and his ship. Though he had been hesitant to destroy it initially, and though he had run to its aid, it had been a ruse. Once discovering the true childlike form of Balok Kirk had destroyed the alien and taken the small ship for the Empire to examine.

Bailey had been aboard the landing party. In comparison to Kirk, he had had initially wanted to kill it. However upon seeing it, apparently the man had changed his mind, feeling some bond or attraction to the alien.

"He died with the memory of you stomping around inside his brain the last thing he'll ever know," McCoy said. "I hope he finds some peace out there to make up for that."

"So do I, Doctor," Spock said. His words had never sounded more sincere than they had been in that moment.

When the Vulcan reached the doors he turned around but did not meet the Doctor's eyes as he spoke. "I do not enjoy his feelings still lingering inside me. I do believe that the Empire would _not _support such feelings either."

McCoy did not know what to say. It had not been the first time. It would not be the last.

Several days later a call came to the bridge. Spock heard McCoy's voice, agitated on the other end and impulsively knew it was a call only to be heard within the safety of the Captain's quarters.

"I am alone now McCoy," Spock told the Doctor.

"Spock," McCoy stated, the tension in his voice clear. "I think you should know…"

"What is it Doctor?" the Vulcan asked after a silence.

"It's Captain Kirk," McCoy finally answered. "He's back. And he is _very_ pissed off."

* * *

(Note: I plan on doing a separate story detailing Kirk and Nan's '_adventure_' at some time in the future. :) )


	19. The Captain's Return

_**Chapter 19: The Captain's Return**_

* * *

Upon seeing the Captain, Spock knew that McCoy had been right. Kirk _was_ definitely pissed off.

The Captain was sitting on one of the Sickbay beds and ranting, his words loud but barely intelligible. The Doctor seemed to be attempting to calm him down.

"Look! You're all right!" McCoy tried to say in a calm voice but his exasperation was evident.

"I'd better be!" Kirk spat.

Seeing Spock, Kirk rose. He walked over to the Vulcan. The human looked at the Vulcan and in one swift moment the Captain's fist rammed into Spock's jaw. Spock did not fall back nor did he look as if he had been struck at all.

"That's what I like about you, Spock. You just take it," Kirk stated, looking calmer.

"Why did you do that?" McCoy shouted at the Captain. "He didn't do anything."

"I know," Kirk said.

"Well he certainly isn't your personal punching bag," the Doctor grabbed Kirk's arm.

Kirk raised the other arm, fist clenched, McCoy flinching as he prepared himself for the blow, but Spock grabbed it mid-air. McCoy opened his eyes, surprised when contact was not made.

The angry Captain turned around to look at the man holding his arm. It was with a look of pure outrage that Kirk's eyes met the impenetrable darkness of his First Officer.

"The action you were about to commit would not solve anything, Captain," Spock stated.

Kirk freed himself from the tight grasp. He stalked over to the corner of the room to sulk.

"Thanks," McCoy whispered but the Vulcan said nothing in return.

"Would you mind telling us what has caused your irrational mood?" Spock looked at the returned Captain.

Kirk looked at Spock.

"Can we logically guess that your mission did not go as planned?"

"Yes. You can say that," Kirk smirked.

"Can you tell us _why _and_ how_?" McCoy answered.

"No."

"Then may I suggest that you remain in the Sickbay until you can calm yourself and not make the other crewmembers suspicious?" Spock suggested.

Kirk considered the suggestion and apparently found that it had some merit. He nodded, sitting down again but remaining silent.

McCoy glanced at Spock, wishing they could talk. He knew, however, that any conversation would, undoubtedly, be over-heard by the Captain.

Suddenly Kirk stood. "You were right, Spock. I feel better now. I want Scotty to see me as soon as possible. He was the only one who saw me land."

"I will tell him to come immediately."

"I don't want you here, Sawbones," Kirk turned to address McCoy.

"Any particular reason?"

Kirk just smiled slyly.

"I guess I'll come with you," McCoy looked at Spock.

"Just like old times," Kirk said. "Glad to see you two still glued at the hip. It looks like things haven't changed. I have to commend you for that, Spock."

Once again, McCoy was reminded of how uneasy the Captain's presence made him.

Spock walked towards the door, not waiting to see if McCoy followed him.

Safely in the hallway now, McCoy looked at the man beside him. "What do you think happened?"

"I can make no other hypothesis then the one I told Kirk, Doctor. His mission was not a complete success."

"Still it was enough of a success to want to talk to Scott alone," McCoy reminded him.

"Yes."

"How about any guesses on that subject?"

"I am smart enough to not make _'guesses'_ when I have no idea of what they concern."

McCoy sighed. "How perfectly Vulcan."

Spock kept steady with his pace. "Yes. I am truly my father's son."

* * *

Kirk remained in the Sickbay several days after his return. McCoy wondered how his reappearance on the Bridge would play out. The crew had taken his sickness quite well. He somehow doubted they would accept his sudden state of good health with the same enthusiasm.

In the meantime, both Spock and McCoy were prone to find Scott making his way stealthily through the ship. Several times they had found him exiting Kirk's room or in odd and strange places.

Spock understood that whatever Kirk had planned it undoubtedly relied on the Chief Engineer's knowledge of the ship. It was deadly enough, however, to not trust with any of his Science Officers.

"He's making me ansty," McCoy confided to Spock one night. "I don't know what they are doing but it can't be good for any soul on this ship who doesn't know about it."

"Then we are at a slightly better advantage," Spock theorized.

"How's that?"

"At least we know that something is happening, Doctor," Spock raised an eyebrow. "We know that Kirk was not onboard the Enterprise for many Stardates, as we also know that he is in the midst of carrying out whatever he had hoped to accomplish. No matter how badly the event carried out."

The words were meant to comfort, McCoy knew. He also knew, equally as well, that they did not console him in the slightest.

* * *


	20. The Missing

Chapter 20: The Missing

* * *

The first of the missing was Admiral Cratke.

He was onboard the Enterprise for what he claimed was diplomatic missions to Arktek 6 and was first discovered missing after the sixth night he had spent onboard the starship. In the beginning no one associated it with the hour long discussion the man had had with Captain Kirk inside the latter man's office. If it was thought of at all, it was concluded that Cratke had fled sometime secretly after that normal meeting, on some secret mission the Empire had planned all along, but had needed the Enterprise Captain's view on.

All that was known for sure was that the man had left sometime without any other member of the crew having seen him, and having left behind the few items he had brought with him onboard. The man had _not_ brought too much with him, so the question was raised that maybe he had not foreseen himself lingering long and the hypothesis had been born that he fled for whatever reasons, his own or the Empire's, that fate had given him.

The second disappearance was more alarming.

Officer Grimlow had been onboard the ship for several weeks, having been sent by the Empire to secure Dilithium trading with the hard to negociate with miners on Rigel XII. It was argued that he was the only man who could secure the trade.

It was obvious from the moment that the man, young and handsome, had stepped onboard the starship he marked it as his own. He had looked at Captain Kirk as a man that he would soon replace and he had treated him in a likewise manner.

Both McCoy and Spock had noticed the furrowing of Kirk's brows when he looked at the younger man. They noticed how like silk his voice became and that his pleasantries were forced. They also noted that Kirk treated the man as if he posed little threat, perhaps knowing something the fledgling didn't.

Alone in the Sickbay, McCoy had broached the subject to Spock. "I wouldn't be that Officer for all the tea in China."

Of course, Spock was quick to point out that all the tea in china had been confiscated by the Empire and was now held in stock reserves in San Francisco. The Doctor was equally as quick to point out that that was not his point.

One thing was clear however: Following a particularly venomous meal held in the Captain's company, one which had found the two hot-headed males at each other's throats, albeit with compliments and insincerities, Grimlow was not found in the morning.

The former meal was remembered and still fresh in everyone's mind.

When Grimlow still did not show himself during the important trade commerce with the planet, the very reason why he had come to the Enterprise and a fact the man had been most proud of, Kirk was left to take over the diplomacies and intricate searching, offering and threatening.

He did it just as well and far more successful, saving the Empire a fair deal of money and causing the Miners quite a deal of pain, than the younger man would have. The vanishing of Grimlow was not a concern of the Empire. They did not care now that the deal was finished and an agreement made.

"Not just a coincidence, hey, Mr. Spock?" McCoy asked.

The Vulcan nodded in his usual way. He did not reveal if he was scared or felt any other emotion towards the whole affair. He treated it the same way he would a piece of meat being stolen from a replicator. It was trivial and the look on Spock's face, a look of pure apathy, sickened and worried McCoy just as much as the disseverances. He did not want the one man he was closest to become too lazy and fail in watching his own back. Of course, he doubted the man would ever offend Kirk openly. The two men in power had become quite use to the acceptance of their relationship in regards to each other.

McCoy was not as sure about his own. He found himself becoming cowardly and he cursed himself for it.

And as the stardates came and went, it was finally realized by every member of the crew, from the highest ranking, next to Kirk of course, to the lowest, that something was occurring on the starship and that it was connected to Kirk and the standings of other's in his own view point. If he was threatened a miraculous thing befell the man: The offender soon vanished.

Though, no one was using the word vanish or disappear now. They had been replaced by words more violent.

At one point, Amy Brown joined the missing. McCoy had cast a questioning glance in Kirk's direction on one visit to the bridge only to win a venomous stare and eventual shrug from Kirk. The Doctor was relieved when it was informed to them that Ms. Brown had left the Empire. Her father's attempt to keep her high position had backfired upon him. Without her lover, and fearing the true events of what had happened on Kehil Lay, she had fled from the Empire's hold and grown disillusioned. McCoy admired her bravery, once again feeling the bitter sting that he could not share it.

After every disappearance, McCoy persuaded Spock to let him visit the now vacant quarters of the dead. It was like visiting a tomb. He would find one object before the items were packed away and sent to whomever was survived, always something that could not have been of importance, a glass or a book of forms and rules. He collected them as killers kept tokens of their victims, save he was not a killer and he did it out of remembrance of the lost. And always there was the guilt, as if he was really somehow a part of the murder. McCoy resigned himself to the suffering, knowing that he was in a way. He had played a major role in the ship becoming a death trap. He paid for it in shame and lack of sleep, fear that one day his office would be vacant, having outgrown or become a threat to Kirk, and he would be unfound as well, no one mourning for him or searching.

And in this fear, and the Empire's own lack of concern, McCoy knew its true horror.

It was intolerance and ignorance which the Empire had been built on. For all their introduction of life beyond the world of humans, they had only accepted those who shared their pride and ambition for power. Anything new, that did not wish to follow them had been denied and stamped out. Or simply forgotten like the growing list of Kirk's enemies.

Maybe there had been a moment where something else, peace, acceptance would have been the choice and foundation for a new world. But that was long since past and who had the strength to fix those mistakes and enough humility to cry for them?

Time passed, as it was known to do. People lived and died with the same pace and unerring hand so days became one and bled crimson blood into the next.

They destroyed McCoy even while they left so many alone because he felt each death. His profession, and this time not only his secrecy with the Captain, cursed him to remember and feel remorse for every last breath taken and see it as a mark of failure, for he could not prevent them. He was best able to determine that is should be quick and painless if possible.

And walking through the sin and sorrow was Spock, claiming it did not effect him at all, so that McCoy became obsessed with bringing the man to bleed and weep with him so he would not feel so damned alone. While a part deep inside McCoy knew that the Vulcan was the last pillar he leaned on, though he would never confess it.

The Doctor leaned onto the man's strength and held onto his logic, finding it comfortable for at least it was stronger than pain and kinder than greed and that if he ever saw Spock giving in to the same despair he felt growing, they would both die, knowing there was no sanity left in the world.

* * *

Note: Sorry for the long time updating! I was doing a little thing called Nanowrimo for November, plus, I lost the last part of this chapter which I'd written months ago. I finally found it today! I am hoping that I can update more frequently in December. I will also be working on a Torchwood Christmas one shot for Ianto/Jack so if you're interested in that keep your eyes peeled! :)


	21. Gift

* * *

_**Chapter 20: Gift**_

* * *

It was like Christmas for Kirk whenever the new shipment of agonizers arrived. His eyes would light up and he'd be the first in the transport or docking bay, whichever was being used, his hands tearing into the boxes to see the latest features and improvements.

"Look Sawbones!" the Captain said as he held a fresh one high in the air, as if in awe.

"Yes. I see it," McCoy said smirking.

"No you didn't," Kirk said in annoyance and extended it. "You couldn't have. _See_."

McCoy looked it over. He rarely looked at his own so he was left to compare it to the last time he had seen someone else's. From first glance, the only difference was a stripe around it and a warning that the voltage was higher. "Yeah. It's real pretty."

Kirk held it close like an infant. "It's more than pretty. It's gorgeous."

He proceeded in taking a handful of them out of the box and leaving the transport room.

"Leave some of those for the others," McCoy shouted out after him.

"I don't think so," Kirk replied, the doors closing behind him.

McCoy looked at the box and kicked it to the side. The man behind the transporter, glanced at him warily like a snake that might bite.

"Who is coming to pick these up?" he asked the stranger.

The man did not answer.

"Tell me or I'll try these new ones out on you first. Even before Kirk gets his chance," McCoy tried to sound intimidating.

The man behind the transporter looked unsure.

"I don't know, sir."

"Is it Sulu?"

"It may be."

If it had been Spock, McCoy had been planning on staying, but since it was not the Vulcan, he had no desire to stay.

Out in the corridor, security officers followed some of the crew. You could tell a person's importance onboard the Enterprise by the entourage they brought with them. The higher in rank the more goons followed them, blue-suited men who were only pleased to protect when the profit was right and the power that it brought with them increased. They were only apt to betray the person they had sworn to protect if they could move up on the food chain. They collected people to defend like past humans had collected those old baseball cards that McCoy had once seen on display on Earth in museums.

Kirk had also viewed the multitude of new security with great pleasure, knowing that it was in large part to himself that it had formed. His enemies were still diappearing just as frequently, however. Whatever he had found, thanks to Nan, it was very useful for erasing even security officers. And once they were gone they were never heard from again and forgotten just as easily. Another name on the ever growing list of Kirk's casualties. The Captain looked at the long parade of security officers with satisfied eyes.

And no matter how long the length, no matter how skilled the officer, people still kept on vanishing and they were still helpless to do anything about it.

Even Spock had acquired a large line of men around him. It seemed odd to McCoy that the Vulcan did not realize that it was incredibly illogical to have so many when it didn't affect the usual fate of Captian James T. Kirk's enemies. McCoy, however, figured out for himself what argument Spock would take. The man would know that no threat would appear from Kirk unless he acted against him. A move that seemed improbable. Spock did not desire the Captaincy, never had. It was the others beneath him who coveted his position, and being so close to becoming a Captain, who proved the largest threat. These crew members were unblessed with the ability to harm him in any means as mysterious at Kirk had found. They would still use brute force and violence.

McCoy did not have one officer to protect himself. The offer for one had never been made to him, from Kirk or anyone else, and so he had never felt the need or compulsion to look for one himself. The Doctor felt naked, offering an exposed back for anyone to plunge a knife into and twist but he still had not asked for any protection.

It was punishement for his cowardice he knew.

The price he paid for being silent and scared, knowing slightly about what was happening, and displeased with the Empire but still living within it's safety, afraid to say a word incase he disappeared as well.

While McCoy's vulnerability went for the large part unnoticed by most of the Enterprise crew it did not escape Spock's careful and viligent eye. He was usually in the man's company.

The First Officer felt compelled to ask the Captain about it soon thereafter.

Kirk just smiled his usual confident grin. "You know I never noticed?"

"I fail to see how you could not," Spock theorized. "You are an observant man."

"I guess, old Sawbones just seems to like not being followed. Maybe he's up to something he doesn't want anyone to know," the Captain theorized.

Spock frowned. "The chances of that are highly, unlikely. From what I know of the Doctor he does not seem like the type of man who would be _'up to something' _in the way you suggest."

Kirk leaned forward in his chair. "And what exactly have you _'seen'_ of the man?"

Spock refused to answer and Kirk grew tired of waiting for a reply. "He's never asked for one that I can recall. He seems to have a deathwish I suppose."

"And you have never offered one?"

"No," Kirk said. "Do you think that I would disregard a man's personal and ethical choices let alone his privacy?"

The words were spoken with boldness and confidence. Still Spock knew they were completely false.

"Besides… I don't think his job is that desired do you? I don't think that McCoy can actually help too many people. When someone sets it in their mind to… let's say: send someone to an early retirement. They don't leave them in too much of a shape to save do they?"

"Experience as taught you well, Captain."

"Yes it has."

"Still do you think that there is another physician in the Empire that would serve you as well? McCoy has been very loyal."

Kirk scrutinized his first officer's face. "Yes. He appears to be. From what I've seen. Then again… You seem to know him better even than I: a man who has known him for years before you even knew the man existed! So you vouch for his loyalty to me?"

"He seems to be able to follow your orders," Spock carefully answered.

Kirk paused a moment before smiling. "That's good enough. For the moment. Did you get your new agonizer?"

"Yes."

"Where do you keep them anyway? You only ever seem to use someone elses? Guilt?"

"No. I don't see the need to use my own when I can use one more easily available."

"That's good enough too, I guess."

"I take it you have yours?"

"First in line," Kirk said joyfully. "They're much improved over the last shipment, let me tell you."

"If you say," Spock said, a thought forming in his intelligent mind.

* * *

Having finished the orders of the Empire, the Enterprise's Captain, walked towards his quarters. The corridors were vacant accept for the few personal guards he brought with him. With the new agonizers now handed out, Kirk saw no sense on inspiring any anxious crew member with the opportunity to try one out on him.

Halfway to his quarters, desiring a private meal, Kirk saw the woman walking towards him. She was nothing less than stunning.

She also apparently was aware of it. Walking towards him with a sultry and arrogant stride, matching his own for pure confidence, her hair was dark and full, lying on her shoulders. She was not angelic. She was earthy and sensuous. Not his usual favourite type, and not possessing a challenge, she was irresistible all the same.

The Captain did not speak a word, only placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her progress down the hallway. Kirk had the distint impression that she would have only stopped for him or someone equal or above his own ranking.

"Yes?" the woman said.

"You're new here aren't you?" Kirk asked.

She nodded.

"I make it my business, to match every face, especially one as beautiful as your's, with a name. It makes seduction easier since I'm a man of precious little time."

"Somehow, Captain Kirk," the woman breathed, "You strike me as a man who finds the time for pleasure quite easily."

Kirk's smile broadened. "Touche."

"My name is Marlena."

"And tell me Marlena… are you free tonight?"

She gave him a deep look, and then broke free from his hold. "Not tonight. Try tomorrow."

Kirk watched her as she left, feeling that, if he had not met his match, he had at least met a very strong and worthwhile distraction.

* * *

McCoy could not shake the feeling that he was being followed. Whenever he passed through a corridor he heard footsteps following him and when he looked behind him he repeatedly saw a man of muscular build some paces behind him. His heartbeat was racing. Several times when he had left the Sickbay he had found the same man waiting someplace close.

The worst thing about the whole situation was that the man wasn't even veiled about it. He seemed to consider following the Doctor as a matter not requiring any illusion. For one frightening moment, McCoy felt the growing fear that his time had come and that someone had sent their goon after him.

The thought was soon silenced with the realization that if that was the case he would be dead by now. Deciding to sleep on it, McCoy was further disturbed to leave his room in the morning and find the man standing watch outside.

Knowing there was only one man he could talk to, not trusting Sulu at all, McCoy found himself on the bridge. Kirk was not there, blessedly, Spock was sitting in the Captain's chair while the man was absent.

McCoy walked up to the Vulcan, casting several glances behind himself and at the people on the bridge.

"Can I talk to you, Spock?" McCoy asked, leaning towards the man.

"You already did, Doctor."

"I think I'm being followed," the human said and looked behind him.

"Yes, Doctor you are correct," Spock calmly stated.

"What?" McCoy cried, winning a few interested glances from the spare crew members and a outright snicker from Chekov.

"You are being followed."

"And why do you know this but I don't?"

"The answer is simple, Doctor. I sent the man to guard you. Apparently he is not being as secretive as I instructed him to be. I will have to correct him."

"Why?" McCoy asked.

"I have noticed that you have not taken the liberty to hire a security team to protect yourself. It is an unwise decision. To remedy the situation, I believed it best to tell one of my men to do it for you."

"I don't need your charity!" McCoy said, bristling under a sudden feeling of shame.

"It is not _charity_. Consider it to be more of a _'gift'_. Or just a move to secure your presence onboard the Enterprise. You are the finest Doctor in the Empire. I would feel better that you stay on the ship and look after Captain Kirk's welfare."

"A _gift_ from you?"

"Yes. Now Doctor, I think it is best you return to the Sickbay."

McCoy was silent. He looked at the silent impassive face of the Vulcan. Quickly he walked away, feeling that he was a traitor to his relationship with the First Officer not to argue or say something sarcastic in reply, yet not knowing what to say. To the Doctor, the care from Spock, this unknown gift, was as unexpected as a smile would be on the man's face. It was a surprisingly warming thought, and McCoy could not bring to his mind, one insult or rebuke, at least not one that he felt safe saying to the other man.

* * *

There was a secret motivation that had caused Spock to give the gift of security to McCoy. The Vulcan contemplated it alone in his darkened room, the light off because they had begun to irritate him and remind him all too much of the fiery planet where he had been born.

Soon, a time would come where he would need to relieve the guards around himself. They would be suspicious and notice that their employer was changing, his reserve breaking, serenity turning to violence. Spock knew he would need to dismiss them temporarily before such a change occured.

And while this would happen, Spock understood how vulnerable he would be and in need of help from someone who could be trusted. The very fact that McCoy was overly sentimental, a fact he still considered to be a fault when it came to the Doctor, would become the greatest asset to him, Spock realized. When that time came it would be easier if McCoy was there.

Knowing, the inevitabilty of Pon Farr, Spock prayed that having placed himself on the Enterprise he would bring no further shame to the planet Vulcan and its people.

* * *


	22. Answer

**_Chapter 22: Answer_**

* * *

McCoy did not send the gift away, though he always strove to break free from the guard's company, and more preferably, his earshot.

He felt most safe in his office even if it was a sure bet that the man from Spock's team was lurking around outside.

The new security for McCoy did not go unnoticed byKirk, who ruefully entered the Sickbay, glancing behind him. "So Spock went ahead and did it then?"

"Did he discuss it with you first?" McCoy asked.

"Briefly… very briefly," Kirk smiled and sat down on the desk, a hand resting on his knee. "I recognize the man. He's one of the better ones too."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?" the Doctor tried to seem untouched by the information. In truth, he was close to blushing.

"My goodness this place is empty and quiet! Our casualty rate must be decreasing," Kirk said sadly.

"On the contrary," McCoy drawled. "No one stays around here too long these days. They die quickly without too much suffering. I guess I should be grateful for that at least."

"Oh how I miss the sound of suffering!" Kirk said half in jest and the other half in deadly earnest. He studied the Doctor. "I also miss Chapel."

"You miss terrorizing her more like it."

"Either way, she looked a great deal better than you," the Captain smirked and examined the man sitting behind the desk. "You look even _more_ tired and old than ever, McCoy."

The comment made the Doctor frown even though he had seen the truth repeatedly in the mirror.

"Get some rest," Kirk said.

"You're not firing me are you?"

Kirk shook his head. "After all we've been through together? You're my oldest friend. In all respects."

"How kind of you," McCoy replied wryly.

"Get some rest. And get some assistants while you're at it! The prettier the better!"

"Aren't you busy with Marlena? Congratulations, by the way. She's stunning."

Kirk looked suddenly smug and slightly dishevelled. "To tell you the truth, I don't know _which _one of us seduced the other."

Both men were stopped mid-thought as the doors opened and Spock entered the office.

"And there _he_ is looking as unfazed as always," Kirk commented.

"It is difficult to look any other way when I do not know what is being discussed," Spock said, thoughtfully.

"And it would hardly matter if you did," Kirk said, patting the First Officer on the back. "You possess the libido of a jellyfish."

Spock raised an eyebrow and McCoy, who had expected the remark to bounce off the Vulcan as easily as every other vague insult was taken off guard by the quick impression that the First Officer seemed slightly irritated by the Captain's words. Spock refused to speak, however, and McCoy saw the expression vanish.

"I wish to discuss something with you, Captain," Spock informed.

"Go ahead," Kirk said still sitting on the desk, looking as if he was more ready to hear a joke than anything remotely concerning business, which seemed to McCoy the only news Spock ever brought.

Spock cast a glance at McCoy and then back at Kirk. "I do not believe it necessary to discuss the subject in front of the Doctor," Spock said. "It is not of a medical nature."

"Awww… Now you've gone and hurt McCoy's feelings!" Kirk cooed. "But that's more of a game with you two, isn't it?"

"And if you joined in you would be the constant winner," McCoy smirked and pushed the other man off from his desk. "You'd better go. I've got to start looking for my _help_."

"I can tell when I'm no longer wanted!" Kirk declared in mock hurt. "Come on."

Spock nodded at McCoy and the Doctor nodded back.

As both human and Vulcan were leaving, Kirk quickly turned around and pointed a finger at the Doctor. "Make sure they're pretty!"

"And so medical qualifications are basically to be beamed to Hell, huh?"

"Yes!"

"You get what you get," McCoy snapped.

In the hallway, Spock let curiosity get the better of him. "What was the Doctor referring to?"

"_That_ was about hiring some new nurses to help him out. Poor haggard old soul. I'm afraid he's wearing out ahead of us, Spock."

"His emotions are his ailment," Spock stated.

"Is that your scientific assessment? Maybe he should hire you. Although you aren't nearly half as pretty as I would have hoped."

"His humanity creates a heavy weight on his shoulders. This universe, this _Empire_, is not suited for him."

Kirk looked wearily at Spock. "Well you spend more time with him than I do. If we could just make him give up that annoying conscience he'd be more _suited_. Just as we are."

The statement did not feel like a compliment to Spock, though he said nothing.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Kirk asked when they were safely alone in a corridor.

"It is the matter I approached you about stardates previously, Captain. The one I needed to remind you about most recently."

"Oh _that_."

"And you have talked with the Empire about a temporary departure from the Enterprise?"

"Yes."

"And their answer?"

Kirk stopped and looked at Spock gravely. "No. Discussions with the Plakavoids are soon approaching. They do not want to afford you being absent. I cannot agree with letting you go at such an important time as well."

"I approached you in advance about the subject _before_ the negotiations with the Plakavoids were announced."

"Well I forgot until just a few days ago," Kirk confessed.

Spock stopped in the corridor and looked at the Captain. Looking into the darkness of the Vulcan's eyes, Kirk saw something close to anger there for the first time he could remember. Fearful at first, the man almost backed away until the realization that something odd was occurring with the First Officer to suffer such a human emotion so easily, made him braver.

Not for the first time, Kirk became intrigued by the motivation for Spock's request for a leave of absence, a request he had never discussed with the Empire at all.

"Would you mind telling me _why_ it is you need to leave us?" Kirk asked, the confidence returning to his voice.

The Captain was pleased to see a look of fear now enter the Vulcan's eyes.

Studying Kirk, knowing he had taken a mistaken step, Spock closed his eyes, indulging in one brief moment to compose himself, and knowing that he had done so far too late.

"It was for a Vulcan ritual," Spock answered.

"Aw… Well would you like to share what it is with me? You know, how interested the Empire is with all things Vulcan."

Spock shook his head. "A trivial thing, Captain."

"I don't believe that anything the Vulcan's let occur is trivial," Kirk said, folding his arms. "You do a great disservice to your people, Spock."

The Captain searched the First Officer's face looking for some sign of hurt that his stinging remark had been uttered to inflict. When he saw none he was highly disappointed.

Tiring of the matter, Kirk resumed his walk and increased his pace. "_I've _given you an _answer_. It is _final_."

Spock walked by the Captain's side, trying to appear as if the matter had dissolved although the subject was deeply in this thoughts. Once more, above all else, was his relief that he had at least taken the precaution to protect McCoy. There was one option left to be taken in regards to leaving the Enterprise during Pon Farr, however, despite Kirk's obvious decision.

Concerning his father, it was the avenue the Vulcan had dreaded the most but now had no other choice than to pursue.

* * *


	23. Close to Confession

_**Chapter 23: Close to Confession**_

* * *

With the possesion of any secret came the fierce desire to share it. The same was as true on the Enterprise as it was on Earth or any other planet under or free from the Empire's control.

Having found the ultimate weapon, Captain James T. Kirk had also acquired the intense urge to tell someone about it. He was a man use to boasting but all too hesitant when it concerned the Tantalus Field. Kirk knew it was foolish to reveal anything about it to someone who could become a threat. This knowledge quickly excluded any crew member on the Enterprise who was below him in rank but capable of surpassing him. It also excluded anyone with any form of dangerous wisdom.

It was true that Scott knew of it but Kirk was aware that the Engineer was devoted to him and the thrill of the secret shared between them had faded away stardates past and after the 15th person had gone on to oblivion. And with its passing, the need for confession had been borne once more.

This was another reason why the appearance of Marlena into his life was so welcome.

The sex didn't hurt either.

It was after such a lengthy session of passion that Kirk was inspired to show his lover the device that had secured his place in the Empire and promised even more power if he so desired.

Her comment had been innocent enough, of course.

She had merely asked him how he had killed Pike.

But even then Kirk had heard something in her voice that sounded too much like distaste. He knew that he had not yet had his fill of the woman. It was not an easy feat to inspire and keep his passion as Marlena had done.

He was not finished with her and when he was Kirk wanted the pleasure of ending it to be his own.

Obviously despite her own level of cruelty and self preservation she still had some of what Kirk believed to be the weaker traits of her sex: a repugnance to blood and violence even when it was needed.

In that moment, Kirk was grateful that the knife he had killed the previous Captain of the Enterprise with had been left behind on the planet Nan de Meer had returned to.

"Oh there was no blood," Kirk lied, even then recalling the red-stained chair he had replaced the second he had ascended to Captaincy but had sent to storage on Earth as another trophy.

Marlena watched the man disbelieving as he played with a dark lock of her hair. Kirk dropped it, pretending to be hurt by the accusing look in her eyes. Then the flicker of an idea coursed through him and the revelation that Marlena could satiate both his physical need and the strong desire for confession. The very softness he had seen in her made him feel even more secure. She would not seek his position, woman that she was, but rather be more apt to help him keep it.

"Come," Kirk said, taking the woman's warm hand and leading her from the bed. "I'll show you."

***

Half-Vulcan, though he was, Spock felt the strong need for confession as well. Day's passing brought the realization that soon the dreaded time, the one event that had been his greatest hesitation in joining the Empire, was coming, and the logic that it could not be avoided.

He had never been closer on the day he was to have contact with Sarek. Sitting in the Sickbay, Spock had let himself snap at McCoy after some trivial remark the human had made.

The Doctor looked at him closely.

"Are you all right?" McCoy asked, sensing something, fearful of the answer.

"For the moment," Spock replied.

"What the hell does that mean?"

But Spock refused to answer.

"Keep it to yourself then," McCoy grumbled. "What do I care."

But the human did care and knew the error of his own words. If he hadn't cared the subsequent silence wouldn't have bothered him quite as much nor would he have been so afraid.

When Spock did raise his eyes, meeting the Doctor's own, the human saw the unmistakable look of fear in them as if his own emotion was mirrored there.

That look increased McCoy's own dread, feeling the net of logic shaking and tearing beneath their feet.

It was as if Spock was contemplating telling him something. Then, as quickly as it had come, the fear was gone and the Vulcan's own apathy had returned, the emotion there, nothing more than an echo.

Though, he was still frightened, looking at the man, more a friend than he had ever dreamed of, McCoy could not let the subject rest. "Look… Are you sure that you're okay?"

"I am sure."

"Really."

"As long as you are here."

The statement staggered McCoy. He could not believe that he had heard those words spoken, but even the fact that they had been proved that something was not normal.

"Is that proof of a certain_ trust_ on your side?" McCoy asked, trying to sound as if he was part joking.

Spock once more remained silent. Looking at the man, seeing cracks in the reserve he seemed so content to assume McCoy felt a sting of anger at the man for not finding the strength to tell him what was on his mind.

"Damn you and all Vulcans. How in the blue blazes am I supposed to help you if you don't tell me what's wrong with you?" the Doctor snapped.

He knew it was a mistake, the perfectly wrong decision to have made for rage flashed through Spock's eyes.

"And when have I ever needed your _ineffectual _aid, Doctor?"

The air was tense between them, and as McCoy watched Spock suddenly stand and leave, he felt the urge not to make it linger there. Often their discussions had ended in rawness, a feeling of too much emotion. McCoy knew that in the past it had always been his own emotions at the head. Now he had seen Spock's and it made him feel ashamed.

"Spock. Don't go," the human shouted out. "Look. I'm sorry."

"Your apologies are almost always ready," Spock said. "You would be better advised to stop apologizing. I will accept it this once but do not feel the _need_ to ever do so again."

McCoy didn't know if the words made him feel better or worse. However, the nod that Spock gave betrayed no signs of hostility and he felt fairly sure that their relationship was not hurt by the squabble as the Vulcan left.

Outside the Sickbay, one of Spock's men approached him.

"Sir. I was looking for you."

"Yes," the First Officer stopped and addressed the man.

"About the matter you discussed with me. The arrangements have been made."

Spock nodded.

The man did not wait for some sign of appreciation but simply turned and headed back in the direction he had come from. Spock cast one last and long gaze at the Sickbay doors before heading back to the bridge.

* * *


	24. Sarek

**_Chapter 24: Sarek_**

* * *

Spock was torn. Logically, he understood that there was little he could have done, having taken action, no matter how failed the outcome, a fair amount of time before he believed that it was too late.. However, logic also told him that there had to have been something he could have done, some avenue left untaken, that could have prevented his having to contact Sarek.

As with most of his decisions in regards to his father, Spock was always left feeling unsure and anxious.

It was another way that the man chose to remind him of his human heritage: That he suffered such emotions while in his presence.

Sarek of Vulcan was not an easy man to contact it was rumoured. It was only now that Spock had been forced to know the validity of that myth.

He had done so secretly, only telling a few of his men and leaving a few of them without knowledge of the mission. It was a private matter. Knowing how the Vulcans felt concerning Pon Farr, Spock's last intent was on making the subject public knowledge.

Moments before Sarek contacted him, Spock waited patiently in his darkened room, waiting for the precise moment his father's face would appear on the screen. He had never felt his nerves as on edge, never had been so strongly reminded that he was Half-Human and that he carried that weakness with him.

And part of him realized that this _heightened _sense of feeling was not normal even for him. The knowledge that Pon Farr was approaching even now gave no peace to the half-Vulcan but reminded him that time was running out.

As the screen that had been brought in secret to his room flashed to life and showed the image of his father, Spock slightly jerked. Feeling shame at the reaction, he looked quickly at Sarek and then to the ground.

His father had not changed since the last time he had seen him. Except for the pointed ears, the man could have been a statue made in Greece millenia ago. He possessed the sharp features and eyes made dark by a prominent brow. And like a statue he was cold and cast in stone. While the negation of feelings may have caused in another man a certain serenity this had not been the case with Sarek. There was no sense of calmness only a edged severity.

A thousand memories flashed through Spock's mind when he looked at his father. None of them brought anything to bring relief. There was no apathy only pain and regret.

No greeting was given and none was expected.

"Your message was received," Sarek spoke. "I do not understand why you could not have expected and accepted my response written or verbally."

Spock did not reply. He could not explain that he had hoped by seeing his son, Sarek would be more likely to help him. Even in his mind now, seeing his father before him, the idea seemed foolish.

"I wish to discuss with you a matter of great importance, Sarek."

"Proceed."

"Do you know what time is nearing?" Spock asked his voice straining to stay normal.

"Yes. I do"

The half-Vulcan hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Then you know why I have contacted you?" Irritation was building in Spock's heart and a certain shame that his father was intentionally letting him be the first to mention the reason.

"Yes," Sarek replied. "And I must admit to being slightly unsure of why you have contacted me over a matter you should have taken care of."

The Vulcan was a master of words. They were the weapons he most often used.

"I have tried," Spock answered. "I have asked in advance for leave from the Enterprise, but it was not granted."

"I am sure that the Empire has its reasons," the older Vulcan stated. "Why have you not secured a female onboard the ship?"

The thought was distateful to the First Officer but it had been explored and considered. For a short time the presence of Christine Chapel onboard had been a possiblity, no matter how unsatisfactory. When she had left, Spock had briefly sought out more information regarding aquiring companionship with one of Harry Mudd's women. In the end, Spock had decided against it. There was no safety in finding a female through a _'bussiness'_. There was someone always coveting power in control of such operations and they would use the information against him, or worse against Vulcan. It was just another way to disgrace his father's people.

"I do not want to," Spock answered simply. "It would cause... _problems_."

Sarek seemed to accept the explanation.

"Is there any way that you could convince the Empire to..." Spock began to say but faltered as he saw the look in the other man's eyes.

"I will not," Sarek replied. "This is your problem. Correct me if I am wrong, Spock, but it was you who decided to serve on the Enterprise."

"Yes."

"And you knew what may happen, did you not? It would have been the first cause of concern."

Spock did not take his eyes from the screen, trying to conjure any strength that he could in the falseness of an act of courage. "Yes. As I have said, I tried to take the proper precautions, I did my best to ensure that it would not be a problem but I have not..."

"Been sucessful," Sarek finished the sentence. "I cannot do anything for you. It is in your hands completely."

As his father looked down suddenly, his son's eyes followed his vision. Spock had not been aware that his hands were trembling until Sarek had seen the fact. The First Officer, tried to stop them but could not.

"I must also remind you to be careful, _Spock_," Sarek met his son's eyes once again. "It is integral that the Empire does not, nor anyone outside of Vulcan, learn of Pon Farr."

"I understand," Spock said.

"I must go. I have spoken too long as it is," Sarek said. "I hope you find an alternative to the lack of sucess you have found in your other attempts."

Knowing that his final attempt had just failed as well, feeling even now the sting of Pon Farr, Spock felt desperation and he could not ignore it any longer. "Father," the Vulcan said and to his own ears he sounded too much like a child. He knew it was a plea even before he could stop it. He had used the word last years before, when Amanda had been alive and before he had understood that he should never remind Sarek of his relation to the human's son.

Sarek did not respond. There was no flicker of affection. The screen only went dark and Spock was left alone, staring into its void.

* * *


	25. Trust

**_Chapter 25: Trust_**

* * *

"He just went crazy!" Sulu said. He was standing next to Spock while he explained the situation to the Captain. It had been an unexpected one for James T. Kirk to enter the bridge to find. Rarely did anyone find fault with the First Officer's methods. He punished those who needed to be punished and there were few protestations.

That was why Spock's attack on Sulu had been so peculiar.

"You did nothing to provoke him?" Kirk snapped.

Sulu opened his mouth to answer but the Vulcan spoke sooner. "No. He did not."

Kirk glared at his First Officer, having tired of watching a fat drop of blood make its slow progress from the gash above Sulu's left eye to his chin. "So why did you do it then?"

Spock stared at the Captain.

His patience wearing thin, Kirk just sighed. "All right. Back to your positions."

"You aren't going to do anything about it?" Sulu cried in outrage.

Kirk fixed him with a ruthless smile. "Yes. I'll do something about it. I'll tell you to see McCoy for that cut or else you'll have another ugly scar to deal with."

***

"There's something wrong with Spock."

"Yes, yes, yes… We've been over this before… You're the campaign manager of that movement, aren't you? So what is this? Pledge week? Are you going to try to sell me buttons next?"

Kirk was in a particularly sarcastic mood, McCoy realized as he walked with the man to the Bridge. The Doctor had made sure to approach the Captain sometime soon after having seen Sulu and heard the report of Spock's violence.

"I'm just saying that he's not acting right… Or like he usually does."

Kirk stopped, suddenly interested. "And why do you say that?"

The Doctor felt immediate guilt, as if in pointing out the fact to the Captain, a point he should have noticed already, he would cause unwanted attention to fall on Spock. No matter what his qualms with the Vulcan, McCoy did not want to betray him. He had the feeling that indiscretion would be the ultimate sin to the First Officer.

"It's just a feeling," the Doctor answered.

"Well don't bother yourself with feelings. Spock, sure as Hell, wouldn't," the man snapped. "Now I have real business to attend to."

McCoy didn't wait to watch Kirk disappear down the corridor but angrily turned and walked back to the Sickbay, all the while grumbling curses at not only the Captain but also himself for even thinking the man could be of some help. Kirk's mind was more concerned, medically speaking, with which new nurses would be found and what they would be wearing than the single welfare of anyone onboard the Enterprise be it Ensign or First Officer.

The older man understood though that this was a very dangerous attitude for James T. Kirk. He would be very hard pressed to find another Officer second in command that shared Spock's apparent lack of ambition.

Entering the Sickbay, McCoy was surprised to find Spock waiting for him. Perspiration was gleaming on the Vulcan's forehead, his skin an even more strikingly pallid tone than ever and there was a strange gleam to his eyes, something not nearly as cold and emotionless asSpock usually appeared.

"Spock…?" McCoy whispered.

He went to place a hand on Spock's shoulder only for it to meet air, the other man escaping the touch as if it was poison.

"Tell me what's wrong with you!" McCoy was close to shouting in his desperation. When no answer came he could no longer control his frustration. "_Damn_ you, Spock!"

The First Officer looked at him. He was studying the human's expression hoping and searching for something there that the Doctor did not understand.

"Can I trust you?" Spock asked. His tone was soft, complete in its vulnerability, as if by giving his trust so many times before he could never be confident in anyone's promises but was now offering belief to McCoy as long as reassurance was given.

If he had asked any other question the Doctor would have responded immediately with the truth or a lie if needed. If Spock had asked if he loved him he would have given a half-truth. As it was, McCoy could not answer.

For the Doctor who constantly blamed himself for every death on the Starship on which he served, who agonized over each sin the Empire committed, feeling his own sins always lying hand in hand with them since he had joined it, he could not promise anything without insecurity seizing him. There was far too much self-loathing in him to do so. His past was an open wound he feared he was the cause of.

In the face of the silence between them, Spock reacted. Rage flashed in his eyes. He grabbed the Doctor by the neck, ramming the man into the Sickbay walls, which seemed to shudder from the force of the impact.

McCoy's first impulse was terror. However, this was soon replaced with pity, seeing the look of shame in Spock's eyes as he realized what he had done. The Vulcan let the Doctor drop to the floor and turned to leave. The fallen human's thoughts were not with himself, though he still felt the force of Spock's hands around his throat. This inevitably caused McCoy's cries out to the Vulcan to be gargled and weak. By the time he found his voice again it was too late: Spock was gone.

Quickly, McCoy rose to his feet. Staggering he ran to the door, exiting the Sickbay just in time to see the First Officer fleeing down the corridor.

"You can trust me! Spock!"

The Vulcan did not stop but continued on his path, acting as if the words were not heard or as useless as McCoy's pity.

***

Captain Kirk lay beside the sleeping form of his lover, eyes open and deep in thought.

The conversation he had had with McCoy replayed in his mind. The thread of a thought, one originated by Spock's earlier request for a momentary leave of absence from the Enterprise, returned now, no longer pushed aside for more physical pleasures.

The Doctor had been right. Spock was not himself. For one thing, the usually adept First Officer had been lousy in regards to the Empire's request of discussions with the Plakavoids. His attention had drifted more than once and Kirk had been left to handle most of the negotiations himself. There was also the Vulcan's assault on Sulu earlier.

Curiosity piqued, Kirk left the sleeping Marlena to go to the Tantalus Field.

Entering the information, Kirk looked without censor into the Vulcan's room.

It was empty. Kirk waited for a while before returning to his bed, bored by the lack of action and interest the vacant room held. The room's lonely state did not change, remaining stubbornly empty the next time Kirk looked and every time following that as well.

* * *


	26. Whereabouts

_Chapter 26: Whereabouts_

* * *

Spock never returned to his room. Not that night or the night after that.

Kirk knew this even before the Vulcan failed to appear on the bridge and before McCoy stepped onto the bridge and approached him about the matter.

The fact was, however, that the Captain simply didn't care.

"Well he has to be somewhere," Kirk whispered to the agitated Doctor. "Scotty tells me that there are no records of anyone having transported and all the shuttlecrafts have been accounted for."

McCoy shook his head. "I

"Look maybe he just needs some time to himself. You said it yourself that he had been acting oddly."

McCoy's hands went to the bruise that still remained around his neck from the last time he had had contact with Spock. It cried out in pain from even this light touch. He had seen that it had not gone unnoticed by others. Their eyes lingered there wondering what he had done to incur such a mark.

Kirk watched him, his eyes cold like a shark but more calculating. "That's a nice necklace you've got there, Sawbones. Need I ask who gave it to you?"

McCoy met the Captain's eyes coldly.

"So was it a little lover's spat? Or are you just naturally into… Shall we say more darker forms of pleasure?"

The Doctor turned around, knowing that he was giving Kirk what he wanted, an angry departure, his face burning red, but unable to stop himself. McCoy's departure was watched by many on the bridge. However, it was only Uhura who stared at the lift for long after the Doctor was gone, her brow furrowed and in deep concentration.

***

Using his medical authority, McCoy had gained entrance into Spock's empty room. He had spent most of the past few hours searching out Spock's men and trying to pry from them access or an answer to the First Officer's whereabouts. They had all claimed ambivalance, having been discharged momentarily but assured that they would be compensated and rehired immediately when Spock needed them.

If this was true, the Doctor didn't know. They seemed to be honest but then men in charge of security were well versed in the craft of deception; it was a needed trait in their profession.

McCoy felt fresh shame at being in Spock's room without the other man's consent. It was trespassing, the Doctor understood. Still, Leonard McCoy didn't know what other path to take. If Spock was in trouble he would need to do whatever necessary to save him. Though, he could tell himself his interest was only as the Enterprise's physician, McCoy knew that it was a lie. He cared for Spock in more ways than he cared to admit and his concern was as selfish as any emotion he had ever had. He could not survive without the Vulcan on board. It was a simple fact, one Spock would probably have looked at logically and disagreed completely with, but that McCoy felt in his hearts of hearts and whatever soul he still believed he had left.

The room was sparse. Spock kept only a few items, parts of his Vulcan heritage and some small traces of his time spent with the Empire. Some objects, the Doctor would not even hazard a guess about. McCoy had often wondered what the room had looked like. He was a little disappointed past the guilt. He had hoped that there would be something in this room to confuse him and shed a little light into the Vulcan's psyche. Spock was still as much a mystery to the man as he ever was.

Wanting to linger, but not feeling that he had any right to stay, McCoy left Spock's room as sterile and vacant as before. Walking back to his office, McCoy was startled to find Uhura rushing after him.

"What do you want?" McCoy snapped.

"Well excuse me for wanting to be of some help," the woman replied.

"Don't pay any attention to this old fool," McCoy apologized. "That's shame and frustration talking."

"The very _thing_ I wanted to help you with."

McCoy stopped dead in his tracks. "You can?"

"I heard your little discussion with our Captain. He seemed to know beforehand that Spock wouldn't show up. But then Kirk's like the Wizard of Oz these days, isn't he? He sees all and knows all."

McCoy nodded.

"Well last night I guaranteed some company with a fellow Officer. Kirk being somewhat omnipresent had the guy worried. I didn't care one way or the other but my date did. He works down in one of the storage rooms. He thought that it would be less likely we'd be made into a peepshow there. It's dark and abandoned. Kirk may have been watching us. I don't know for sure but what I will tell you is that we were definitely _not_ alone."

McCoy's face lit up as what the woman was trying to tell him dawned on him. "You think it was Spock?"

"Yes."

"He wasn't wounded or anything?" the Doctor stammered in concern.

"Not from what I could tell," Uhura answered. "He did seem kind of _different_."

"In what way?"

"I don't believe that the Spock we all know and respect would avidly watch a display of human lust do you?"

The very thought proved the validity of Uhura's statement. Feeling gratitude for the woman and fondness, the Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're too good for this ship."

"And don't I know it."

"To Hell with false modesty, huh?" McCoy shook his head.

"Honey, I _was_ being modest," Uhura picked up the hand on her shoulder, gave it a wistful kiss and then strolled away.

McCoy's wished to go directly to the storage docks but understood the foolishness of going unprepared. There were two things he may need and he knew where they were waiting for him. The Doctor ran, knowing that he was once more attracting unwanted attention but too anxious to stop himself.

* * *


	27. Found

_**Chapter 27: Found**_

* * *

The place was dark yet hot and dry. It smelt of piss and sex and every smell that was known to man. McCoy was use to them all, having been a Doctor for many years and witness to all the body offered up for its existence. Why anyone would choose the storage dock for a rendezvous wasn't easily understood by McCoy but then illicit trysts did not usually rely on comfort nor was the body altogether patient when concerning needs and satisfaction.

Part of McCoy also knew that Spock must have been drawn to the place not only for its supposed seclusion but the heat of it. From what he had heard Vulcan was hot as Hades and this must have been part of its appeal to the First Officer.

Spock had sought leave from the Enterprise. He had dragged that much from Officer Kaylek, the guard whom Spock had given to him. After McCoy had taken the pains while searching the Sickbay for what he planned and hoped he didn't need to use, he had grabbed an extra needle and a formula. He had been working on it for quite some time. It was a truth serum. Having witnessed the pain Spock had suffered while prodding Bailey's mind, McCoy had sought to find another source of dragging truth from those who kept secrets. It would prevent Spock from having to use the Vulcan mind meld and in the process make himself so terribly vulnerable. The Doctor didn't have a clue if it would work or not but Kaylek would be as good a test subject as any. McCoy had figured and it wasn't terribly dangerous.

Not much anyway.

The physician had believed it necessary to find out as much information he could before going down to the storage dock. Mentally, he had made a reminder to tell the Vulcan how easily it had been to inject the guard with the fluid and wait patiently for it to work. It had been embarrassingly simple for a guard of such high rank. McCoy only hoped that the problems Spock was facing would not be insurmountable and he would be given the chance to tease the Vulcan about this fact at all.

One of the other information that McCoy had been able to pry from the guard was the fact that Spock had managed to make contact with his father, Sarek, before his disappearance. The human could only guess at how poorly the discussion must have went. That this event, Sarek's apparent failure for his son, had driven Spock to the Sickbay and coaxed from the man a final plea to McCoy for reassurance that he could trust him went hand in hand. The Doctor knew that he had been no better than Sarek but without the tie of family. But then from what McCoy had seen exhibited from Spock and the varied accounts he had heard there was no such existence of family on Vulcan. There was only ritual and history.

Knowing this made Spock's turning to him seem all the more pathetic to McCoy and his own ineffectiveness all the more damning. There was nothing he could do, however, to take that moment back and it would do Spock no good to dwell on it so McCoy vowed to himself that he would never let the Vulcan down again.

Kaylek was waiting by the lift, McCoy having told him to wait promising him plenty of motivation to linger, though he should have wanted to keep an eye on his target anyway. Another tidbit that McCoy had drawn from the man had been that Spock, in as confusing a state that he was in, had made it clear to the guard that he was to protect the Enterprise's Doctor no matter what. The incentive had been paid out immediately, whether Spock returned or not and the First Officer had stressed the point that if he or any of his own guards heard any whisper or talk that McCoy was harmed during his absence an agony booth had been reserved for Kaylek.

McCoy's own reasons for bringing the guard had nothing to do with his own safety. He had known that with the state Spock may currently be in he would not go willingly. That was the reason why the Doctor had stopped at the Sickbay first and why his pocket was no longer empty and the agonizer he usually refused to carry was now gripped firmly in his hand.

The area was dark, probably too dark to resemble the planet Vulcan in this respect, having mainly to rely on the heat.

It was silent too. Maybe this too, though, was similar to the place of Spock's birth, McCoy mused, his feet falling carefully on the floor. It was a planet filled with nothing but the starvation of emotions, a place where the primary action was contemplation. For a moment, the Doctor wondered if they ever sang on Vulcan or did they design, instead, beautifully crafted instruments to form notes and chords, instead of voice, which could falter or become hoarse. It was something he would need to ask Spock about.

A sound to his left made McCoy stumble.

"Spock?" he cried out his voice hushed.

Only silence was given.

Making his way to where the sound had come from, nonetheless, McCoy almost tripped over a box. He managed to catch himself, preventing himself from

"Dammit!" he exclaimed.

This was the Doctor's last word before the wind was knocked out of him by Spock , who pounced on the unsuspecting man as a tiger would claim its prey.

McCoy fell to the floor his head beating against it. He would have cried out in pain except Spock's hand had returned to the position they had been in the last time they had seen each other: placed firmly around his neck, pressing against the bruises he had already made. Another pain added to the last caused another cry to be borne from the Doctor and stifled yet again.

In response, he chose action instead, bringing his knee up he hit the Vulcan in the groin and caused the hold to be loosened. While Spock was put off balance, not particularly from pain but from shock, McCoy grabbed the agonizer that had fallen fortunately to his side. Pressing it against the man before him, McCoy mumbled an apology before turning it on to full energy. Even at this power, McCoy feared it would fail to work against the Vulcan physiology. Some of his human ancestry must have been working to his advantage, however, McCoy felt as he watched Spock yell and jerk. Wasting no time, knowing it was to Spock's benefit not to, from his pocket the human pulled another needle, already filled with serum. Thanking God that it had not broken from the impact of the struggle, McCoy moved himself to the Vulcan's back and plunged the needle into the broad shoulders.

Screaming, one of Spock's hands reached to his back where the needle was. The needle was broken from the sheer strength of the alien. Quickly, Spock, anger in his eyes, rose to his feet and stared at the human.

"Oh great ," McCoy muttered and backed away.

Spock looked at the man before him, clearly in rage, unadulterated and set free after years of being restrained and held captive. That he had not spent so concentrated form of elation on him, not even Sulu having seen its extent, made McCoy strangely happy. That it was only hate and not love in any way, hurt the Doctor in a way he had never been wounded before.

"Spock," McCoy whispered.

Hearing the name, Spock seemed to hesitate for a moment, the rage vanishing into confusion.

"Spock…" McCoy said. "_I love you_."

The Doctor did not know if the Vulcan had heard the words he barely had been able to say. Spock had been halfway to the floor before McCoy had finished the whispered confession, the drug finally having taken its effect.

McCoy waited seconds before walking to the unconscious First Officer. He knelt at first, touching the man's damp and oily hair, then sitting down next to him, stroking the man's cheek, tracing the shape of his lips. He knew that there was little time to waste but allowed himself that one brief and quiet moment with Spock before calling to the guard, waiting patiently by the lift, to get his ass over there.

* * *


	28. After the Examination

**_Chapter 28: After the Examination_**

* * *

The Sickbay was cast in darkness.

It had been the first thing that Spock had asked of McCoy when he had awoken. Held down in restraints, the Doctor having had the fear that when the man bid unconsciousness goodbye he would not be pleased to discover where he was.

However, while McCoy had expected the Vulcan to ask for a setting more like his home world, he had surprised the human by asking for shadows instead.

The Vulcan was also not violent. Not then, at least. He had retained some bit of his usual coolness, casting a questioning look at the Enterprise's physician and then one at the bounds at his hands and feet.

"These will not hold me," the alien had said calmly. "You would be wise to move me to a higher security cell."

McCoy had agreed, freeing the bonds and leading the other man, not to a prison cell, he knew too much about Spock's condition now then to risk exposing the fact in so open and cruel a place. Instead, the two walked, odd in their serenity, to a secret place that the Sickbay had been equipped with under Kirk's orders.

Having entered the proper code, the wall raised revealing the cell. Spock raised an eyebrow surprised by the existence of the room. He walked into it and McCoy entered another code, causing a transparent sheet to fall down between them. The wall was secure, unbreakable by any weapon or any blow that the son of Sarek may administer to it.

Spock kept his back turned to McCoy, examining the room he was to be confined to for an undetermined length with a bland sort of curiosity.

"You have examined me?" Spock stated when he finally turned to look at the Doctor.

McCoy blushed, feeling the heat come to his face and grateful that the shadows would obscure it as best they knew how.

"Yes," he answered.

The first thing that the Doctor had done was to study the patient.

There were several things he could have done to the man while he had been asleep. A hundred paths his own curiosity could have led him to. And while other doctors may have done so, for the power that such knowledge of the half-human, half-Vulcan First Officer's anatomy would have given them, McCoy's own interest was far too motivated by his emotions. He could have traced any line, explored any usually hidden area of skin with fingertip or lips.

Yet he had not allowed himself this pleasure. He was too use to guilt, already, to invite anymore into his life.

Not when there were more important things to discern.

"You know what is wrong with me?"

"No," the southern gentleman answered truthfully. "I'm not sure. You're condition is far too… Far too alien to me, Spock. I don't understand how you can live in such a state so I won't be stupid enough to believe that I know what the Hell is wrong with you. But I know that there _is_ something wrong. Your body is going to collapse from the strain. I know that much. You can't go on for much longer."

Spock simply nodded as bored as if he were listening to words he had heard often before or that had played out in his mind numerous times.

"Is there any chance that you would volunteer the answer to me?" McCoy asked. There was no anger to his voice. No irritation only a pleading quality that the Vulcan had never heard present before in the Doctor's usual tone.

"I am… I am in Pon Farr," Spock replied.

"Spock that means nothing to me," the other man sighed and the frustration returned to his voice. "You might as well have told me that you were transforming into a cat or ordering a Vulcan side dish."

The sound of the Doctor's voice betraying that he was flustered again brought a sudden quirk of the lips to the First Officer more than the analogy did.

It caught in McCoy's throat, stealing away his breath.

"Vulcans… Emotions are forbidden to us…" Spock started, hesitating as he looked for the right words for his confession. "Have you never wondered how we continue our race? For those who strive to avoid all baseness to engage in any carnality? Have you ever wondered what it is like for us?"

The notion was a common one for McCoy but the realization that this was what Spock was going through was staggering. The thought had never come to him, though now it seemed rather obvious.

"For all our progress, we still cannot escape what we once were. There is no time that reminds us more of this when we seek to carry on our own bloodlines, Doctor," Spock stated, with some trace of bitterness to his words. "This is how our race survives."

It made sense but a brutal sort, so contrasting to the usual image of the unfeeling Vulcan. It seemed a form of rape that a species that had tried to evolve from so primal a state had been forced to experience the full extent of the emotions they found so shaming. The urges of the body complete and unrelenting.

Was this nature's way of reminding them of what they had been? Was it one of God's jokes or revenge for neglecting the way He had made them to be.

There were no words for McCoy, only the strong concern he felt. He decided to avoid comment altogether, focusing on healing as his profession attracted.

"How can I help you?"

Spock lowered his head. "There is no way. The need must be met or I will perish."

"So then it is rape," McCoy thought without comfort.

"This is why I wanted to go back to Vulcan," Spock said. "To have the opportunity in secret to satisfy those needs."

"But Kirk wouldn't let you?" McCoy asked.

The Vulcan shook his head.

"You think that of all things Kirk would have understood that, at least," McCoy snapped.

"I didn't tell him why I needed to return," the First Officer said.

McCoy bit his lower lip. "Maybe if I explain."

"I doubt it would make much of a difference," Spock answered. "Kirk can be quite vindictive in certain… _areas_."

"But do you give me permission to discuss the matter with him?"

There was silence.

"There is no drug that you can make?" Spock asked.

McCoy violently shook his head. "No. I tried but… I'm not that good of a Doctor."

"You are the best that I have ever known," Spock replied.

"Don't go giving me unwarranted praise," McCoy shouted.

"And as always one of the most stubborn men I have ever met, as well."

This caused McCoy to smile almost against his will. "Look who's talking you devil browed menace."

Spock was silent. "You can ask Kirk. I doubt, however, that such a discussion will be fruitful."

"Don't count me out just yet," McCoy stated, hitting a button on the hidden console and letting the wall of paint and plaster hide the frowning Vulcan from his sight.

* * *


	29. A Missing Captain

_**Chapter 29: A Missing Captain**_

* * *

When McCoy arrived on the bridge, the Captain's chair was empty. The people on the bridge looked at the Doctor with only mild curiosity. McCoy swore under his breath. His eyes landing on the pleasant back of Uhura, the Doctor walked towards her for a little information.

"May I ask where our dear Captain is?" McCoy did not try to hide the frustration in his voice.

Uhura took the earpiece from out of her ear and turned to look at McCoy. "Am I my Captain's keeper?"

"No," the man replied. "But you sure are wiser than most people here and I trust you a hell of a lot more."

The woman smiled from the compliment. "Well thanks, honey. You know a few pretty words make all the difference."

Her eyes flicked to the Captain's chair and back to McCoy, in the process trying to make sure that no one was paying them any undue attention. "I don't know where he is," she sighed. "I heard someone say that they saw him going to talk to the head engineer but Scotty was in here a few moments ago. Sorry."

McCoy cursed Kirk under his breath.

"You can try Marlena," Uhura suggested. "She may know. Not that she would tell you. When the Captain is in one of his secretive moods he can be pretty adept at keeping mum."

McCoy smiled and patted her on the back. As he was leaving, the woman grabbed his hand.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with what I told you a little while ago, now would it?"

McCoy didn't answer, simply choosing to nod his head.

"Is he _okay_?" the woman asked in genuine concern.

"Now that depends on if I can find the Captain."

"I don't know how much prayers are going for these days, but you both will be in mine," Uhura said before turning back to the console.

"It can't hurt," McCoy mumbled under his breath as he headed for the lift.

* * *

Calling on the Captain's quarters proved no more successful for the Enterprise's Doctor. Though Marlena was there, she seemed reluctant to say anything that would give away her lover's whereabouts.

"Well can you contact him?" McCoy pleaded. "It's an emergency."

"I am not a ball and chain around Kirk's ankle Doctor," Marlena answered in her husky voice. "I respect his privacy and he respects mine."

"Well that would make you the only one whose privacy he does care about," the Doctor snapped.

The woman looked both amused and offended by the comment.

"Look," McCoy said, a fresh idea forming in his mind. "It is of the utmost importance that I talk to him…"

"As you have said _repeatedly_, Doctor," Marlena said, all amusement gone. "Now I must say good…"

"I found something wrong with Kirk during the last physical," McCoy interrupted.

"What?"

"If I don't find Kirk he can be in very _fatal _danger."

This tactic seemed to work on the woman and the man cursed himself, this time, that he hadn't thought of it before. She turned and looked around at the room behind her. Fixing McCoy with an icy stare she mumbled something under her breath.

"Look," she whispered. "It will take me a while to locate him. I will tell him what you said."

The Doctor folded his arms. "I will wait here."

The look the woman shot him now was pure poison. "No. You go back to your office and wait like a good boy."

The woman clearly did not want him around, and not wanting to push his luck, McCoy acquiesced. Heading back towards his office. He, at least, felt more confident than before.

* * *

Together, in McCoy's office, Spock and the Doctor waited. Sitting on the floor, watching the Vulcan pace around the limited space of his confinement, McCoy saw clearly the change that had occurred in the First Officer. All trace of his reserve was quickly vanishing. Left to the man was simply nothing more or less than all the base impulses that any sentient creature seemed to be forever plagued with.

Once the epitome of patience, it was evident that Spock had none left.

"Luckily the floor of that cell is made of metal or you'd likely wear it out," McCoy said, trying for some comedy.

From the expression on the Vulcan's face, the Doctor understood that he had been wrong: Spock, apparently, was currently not suffering from any sense of humour.

"Sorry," the human apologized, earning an irritated look in the process. "I am sure that Kirk will hurry. If he thinks that he's in trouble that seems like a pretty safe bet."

"I do not care if he appears," Spock stopped his pacing and looked at McCoy. "As I explained earlier, I have little _faith_ in your plan, Doctor. Kirk will not care or help me in any way."

"But…"

"I am in a state of fear, McCoy," Spock confessed. "I can feel every bit of logic and restraint that I have ever gone to for refuge slowly crumbling Doctor. And I can sense that I will soon not care for you or anyone else that I have come to know. Even now I look at you sitting there, Doctor, and I can feel only anger."

"You can't help that, Spock," McCoy tried to comfort. "It is against your will. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Spock replied. "Believe me, Doctor. I understand that very well. Still it is an affront to me… to my very being. I do not expect you to understand that, nor feel what I am feeling. Soon I will be very close to killing you. I can feel that emotion starting to build. For the sole reason that you can not help me, your inadequacy, your lack of effect, the very reason why you loathe yourself, is the same reason why I will hate you."

The words were cruel, more hurtful coming from the only person he truly had let himself care for, McCoy knew. Still he did not flinch from them and took the blame that was rightfully directed at him, the Doctor felt.

"Doctor McCoy," a voice suddenly forced itself between the human and Vulcan. It was readily identifiable as Kirk. "I heard you wanted to talk to me."

If McCoy hadn't felt so destroyed he would have laughed at the fear he heard coming from the Captain's voice. "I'm here," he replied.

"Come to my office, ASAP!" the voice ordered. "And bring everything you'll need."

Freeing himself from the Vulcan's hate and gaze, McCoy stood. He looked at Spock, who was avoiding his eyes.

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

"It doesn't matter," Spock stated. "If you chose to never return I would not blame you."

The words struck McCoy worse than any other the man could have chosen.

"I would never, _never_ do that. Do you understand me, Spock?"

The Vulcan did not reply. Not waiting for one, nor wanting to waste any more time, McCoy exited the room, purpose driven in every step he took.

* * *


	30. The Possibility Of Anyone

**Chapter 30: The Possibility Of Anyone**

* * *

When McCoy entered Kirk's office he could tell that the Captain wasn't feeling well, which was probably due in a large part to what McCoy knew he had told Marlena. Apparently, the woman had eventually found Kirk, or Kirk had let himself be found, and now was in dire straights having been hit in the place he valued above all else: his own life.

"Give it to me straight, Sawbones," Kirk said, looking green, "I knew when I woke up today that something wasn't quite right! I just had that feeling, you know? Look at these hands. So much power! I have nations at my feet, the Empire dependent on me and it all means nothing. Absolutely wasted! All wasted since I haven't had the time to master immortality!"

Kirk had always been a bit theatrical in McCoy's opinion.

"Calm down," McCoy soothed. "You're not dying yet."

Kirk looked incredulous. "Really?"

"I needed to see you. It was urgent."

Kirk's expression went from one of relief to one of outrage. "Well why the blasted did you need to get me worried for? I'll have you hanged for this McCoy!"

"They don't hang people anymore," McCoy informed the Captain.

"You're right. You deserve far worse."

McCoy rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "I found him, Jim. I found Spock."

For an instant the Captain looked as if he had never heard the name before when realization suddenly flashed across his face. "Oh yes. Was he still missing?"

"Yes," the Doctor said.

"That explains why I have had all that extra work of late," the other man said coolly and settled back in his chair, the crisis to his health now forgotten. "Tell him to get back on the bridge. It's his job, after all."

"I can't," McCoy sighed.

"Well why the bloody hell not?"

"Spock's… well he's not well," In McCoy's mind, as he had been racing to the Bridge and to the privacy of the Captain's office, this had been the task he had looked least forward to. The anger of the Captain after the truth that he had been lied to was nothing to McCoy. He could face the wrath of James T. Kirk. It was betraying Spock that worried the Doctor. Though, he was confessing to one man, that man was the most dangerous on board the Enterprise and the fact that he would have the truth, a potentially humiliating one to Spock considering it concerned the whole Vulcan race. It was clear that Spock had his own demons. They had come into existence from the childhood he had spent on Vulcan, born from the simple fact that his mother was human. For Spock to bring disgrace on his people would be worse than death: it would be exile and further proof that he had never been accepted or wanted.

Still, McCoy, with all the human failings he possessed in the eyes of Spock, did not want to lose his friend, and in the Doctor's eyes if the First Officer died he would soon follow.

"We have to take Spock to Vulcan."

Kirk waited for a moment, expecting some further elaboration and seeing that the Doctor was clearly reluctant to go on further. "And _why_ must we do a thing like that?"

McCoy was visibly squirming. "Because if we don't he will die."

Kirk still looked as confused and reluctant as before. "Well wouldn't he be just as apt to die there as to die here? I need a little more to go on Sawbone, and not to hurt your feelings, not that I particularly care, you are losing my patience."

McCoy sat down in the chair opposite the Captain, his head retreating to the shelter of his hands, as if by not seeing the other man it meant he could lessen his guilt. "We have to find a suitable mate for Spock or else he will die."

The silence that met the Doctor lured him away from the safety the darkness of his two hands offered. Kirk's shoulders were rising and falling. He appeared to be laughing.

"What's so damn funny?" McCoy asked.

"Well I've heard some excuses in the past but that one just about takes the cake!" Kirk blasted the words out along with a humongous laugh. "Can I use that one? It could help explain some of my infidelities throughout the years."

"Listen, Jim," McCoy snapped. "This isn't a game. Spock's biology... It's all messed up. He's a Vulcan remember."

"So he needs to get laid? That's what you're telling me?"

McCoy nodded somberly.

"Boy I wish I was born Vulcan!"

"Well you'd have to wait every 7 years," the Doctor snapped.

Kirk grimaced. "I retract that last wish. I don't see what is so important and why we need to go all the way to Vulcan. Where is he now, may I ask?"

"I have him in that blasted room you built. He's showing extremely high levels of adrenaline. He's also becoming very irrational and dangerous. Luckily he was lucid when I put him in there. We're losing him though."

"Well let him just sit there and sweat it out."

McCoy lowered his head. "Captain. I don't think you understand... If we don't help him he will die."

"Do I look like I care one way or the other?" Kirk replied.

When McCoy raised his head he could see the lack of concern that had been in every word the Captain had spoken, mirrored on the man's face. He knew the answer was no and would remain so if he didn't find another tactic.

"Well if he dies do you honestly think the Empire won't send someone your way with an eye on a more loftier position? And do you honestly think that I wouldn't help him after you had let Spock die?"

The Doctor knew even before he had finished the sentence that he had garnered lightly more of the other man's attention. However, he had not reached him as he potentially would have in the past, he understood, before Kirk had discovered a reliable method to make his rivals suddenly vanish.

Kirk eyed the Doctor carefully. "Well there is no way in Hell I am going to Vulcan. That is not even an option my dear and _very_ old friend."

"Okay," McCoy muttered. He was not sure how important the actual planet of Vulcan was to the ritual of Pon Farr. He had not asked Spock nor could he be sure. He was confident, as a Doctor, that there was no difference he could discern. It was probably due more to the importance of his birthplace in Spock's own mind. "I will need to find him a Vulcan female than to..."

"There are no other Vulcans on board," Kirk hissed. "Find him a girl on board and stop wasting time. There are plenty to choose from. Any bitch will do for our man in _heat_."

"I don't know if a normal female will be strong enough to live through that..."

"Who said anything about living for the Empire's sake!" Kirk said with a smile on his face. "We have enough casualties left right and center, don't we? Some caused by your own illequipped hands."

"I try my best to..."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, my good Doctor," the other man smirked. "If not a girl, find a boy but do it quick, won't you? I find this whole problem very irritating. There are enough men and women willing to climb the social ladder. Tell them Spock will promote them, if they can _help_ him. Maybe to head slut huh?"

The idea almost made Leonard McCoy ill. He did not know who would be strong enough to be with the Vulcan, in his violent mood, willingly and survive the experience. He also did not believe the person who did it would not be just as dangerous to the First Officer. Blackmail... threats... Even the whole situation was a source of shame to the Vulcan race. Would the man be able to take the knowledge that someone else, besides Kirk, had witnessed his shame?

And to McCoy, beneath all this, was an unexpected wave of jealousy that the Vulcan should be with someone else, who's motives would be on rank alone.

"What are you waiting for?" James T. Kirk said shaking the Doctor out of his contemplation. "Now go find some fresh and willing meat! Well it doesn't need to be fresh does it? It could be as stale as even you, my dear McCoy. As long as our Mr. Spock knew what he wanted and how to get it he'd be fine."

McCoy raised his head and met the Captain's eyes. There was such a strange look in the older man's eyes, that for a moment, the hair on the back of Kirk's neck stood up. It was one of dawning realization, finality and resolve. There was power in that look, so much that the Captain was left with a uncomfortable notion. "In the right situation," Kirk thought. "I could be afraid of this man."

"Goodbe Kirk," Leonard McCoy said but it held no love or hint of warm emotion.

Kirk raised his hand and flicked it aside, returning to the speech he would give to the next planet that was conquered and the night he would spend with Marlena and one of her friends if she would allow it.

* * *

Note: A brief apology for any spelling mistakes etc... I was in a mad rush to get this chapter posted and my computer is being a pain. I will make any corrections that need to be made soon. I hope it was enjoyed despite these failings from a fallible writer.


	31. Dark Unity

Chapter 31: Dark Unity

* * *

Those whom passed Dr. Leonard McCoy in the corridors of the Enterprise sensed the same power and resolve emanating from the man as Kirk had sensed moments before. It was the first time in ages that they had actually noticed the man at all. Usually, he was nothing more to them than a shape, a figure slowly passing them, defeated or occasionally angry for reasons they did not know or care to find out. The Doctor was only a stranger to them. Their only thought dedicated to him was a vague prayer that they would not find themselves in his company and care, the survival rate being what it was.

The man that passed them now was different. His determination made them stand aside and let him go interrupted to wherever he was headed.

One such man failed to even realize that it was McCoy, odd primarily because he had been trying to get in touch with the man for hours. The man passed by McCoy, stopped in shock, and then backtracked.

He did not address the Doctor but instead grabbed his arm and halted the other man's progress. As it had taken the man a moment to recognize the good Doctor, it took a moment for McCoy to realize that he was being impeded from his trek by one of the Nurses he had just recently hired.

"I've been looking for you!" the Nurse exclaimed, running a hand through his hair.

"Why?" McCoy snapped.

"I just wanted to let you know that there is a dying man in your Sickbay. It doesn't matter to me," the man replied back, his own tone bristling now.

McCoy felt his face flush, familiar guilt once more creeping in. "I'm sorry. I was with the Captain."

"As I said, it doesn't matter. He's a dead man anyway."

"What happened?"

"He ran into a little problem with whatever new experiment Scott's trying out. He severed the jugular. Piece of shit flying, I think."

"You don't know?"

The other man shrugged. "It wasn't important. I didn't even bother to report it, Scott suggested it would be _unwise_ to do so. I'm not into butting heads with someone like that. I couldn't save the patient and neither can you. The only way that guy would come back was if you replaced his guts with wiring. I just thought that since you are this piece of junk's _Doctor _you would care. Not that there is ever any evidence from your _work_."

As if seeming to be happy to leave it on such a jab to McCoy's credit, the Nurse smirked and left. Not caring, McCoy turned and once more headed towards the Sickbay.

Walking into the Sickbay, McCoy immediately saw the wounded crew member. Blood seeped from the sliced neck, where obviously a piece of Scott's experiment had gone flying. McCoy gingerly took it out, though as the Nurse had said, it didn't matter. At some point while the Nurse had been searching for him, the patient had died. Looking at his face, the Doctor could not recognize the man. He could recall no time in the past when he had ever met the man. It was eerie to McCoy, not for how alien the man seemed, but how alike to himself he was. They appeared to be the same age, though the dead man was only an Ensign, having no important rank to show for his years in service. He was also the same build, same height and same weight it appeared.

McCoy sighed, taking a sheet from off the table and covering the man's face. The Doctor turned and headed towards his office.

Standing outside his office door, McCoy found his determination not so easy to hold on to. What he planned on doing required courage and courage had never been a trait he believed he possessed. He was no hero from a myth nor even a gunslinger from the novels he had read when he had been young and unknowing. He was only a man, in truth, and sometimes he felt himself not even to be worthy of that title.

McCoy grasped onto that seed of bravery, however, knowing if he didn't things would fall apart as everything in his life seemed to inevitably do. McCoy realized that to not act would situate him firmly in the place he did not want to be: without the companionship of the Vulcan Spock. Yet acting, fulfilling his intended course of action would also risk the very same outcome. If he took that first step things would never be the same between them again. The Doctor felt damned either way.

Before entering the office, McCoy hit the wall, the resulting pain felt good for it helped to clear away some of the murk that was dulling his senses. Inside the safety of the office, McCoy raised the wall hiding the secret cell. At first, in the darkness of the room, McCoy could not see the First Officer in his prison. Only as his eyes adjusted, and he searched with apprehension and desperation did he find the younger man half kneeling in a corner. His dark eyes flashed a violent warning to McCoy, who had studied Spock many times against his will. It was evident that the man was about to implode, all his repressed desires and emotions destroying him from the inside.

He was almost animal now, the Doctor thought before he corrected himself. No it was worse than that: Spock was almost human.

Thinking about the rational man and how far he had fallen, McCoy found the answer to protecting his own vulnerability, his relationship with Spock and the Vulcan's life. The Doctor cast a quick glance back to the Sickbay where he knew the dead man, so much like himself, was now lying. For once in his life, McCoy was grateful for death and mortality. The very darkness would be his shield and saviour. There was no logic left for Spock and this fact would aid the Doctor in all he needed to do.

McCoy's hands reached for the switch. Before the wall fell, Spock raised his eyes again and met McCoy's. Whether the Vulcan even recognized him anymore, McCoy didn't know, but there was more torment in that gaze than any of the damaged bodies that the Doctor had tried in vain to heal, ease or save before their passing.

* * *

Spock sat in silence on the floor. The initial coolness of it, at first, had brought some relief to the inferno that his body quickly felt like it was becoming. Then that relief too faded as he waited for McCoy to return. Only he had forgotten whom it was that he had wanted to come as the time passed, and all he could remember was the shame that he felt mixed with the lust and the cravings he had denied himself for so long. He no longer felt like a higher vessel. He felt like a cage or something trapped within one, having been restrained for too long. Before, when he could meditate, he could feel the Enterprise moving through space beneath him. He could feel his place in the universe and the calming influence his people's teachings had imprinted on him. Now those lessons were nothing more than spiderwebs, woven to make him captive. They had no relevance to the power he felt flowing through his body.

The man started to weep. If he hated tears it was only that they were no sign of the rage he felt rather than that they betrayed that he was, in truth, not made of stone.

The Vulcan barely noticed when someone entered the room and stood staring at him after the wall had rose.

They entered the cell.

Spock heard them as they stepped inside his prison and stood in the darkness that encompassed the space. Now he looked up. Whoever was with him, the Vulcan knew that they were male. The lengths they had gone to cloak themselves, their face hidden by a mask, had been foolish. He could tell from the shape and that scent that they gave off. The scent of blood was strong on them too. It was a scent he did not recognize, making him take the man for a stranger.

They were human too. He could smell that as well. His passion held no rules to govern it, no specific desire but his own gratification, yet he knew that what he needed was female for that was what he had been taught. To Spock, in this irrational state, he understood only that anything that was not a mate was an enemy.

The Vulcan stood quickly. He rushed towards the stranger, pushing them to the ground. Feeling that his opponent was not fighting, it was not difficult for Spock to grab the hands of the intruder and pin them above their cloaked head. Still, the intruder did not fight. Spock screamed, as much in confusion as anger. One hand free, Spock used it to move under the cloak, trying to lift it from the man now under him. As it moved farther up the body of the stranger, the Vulcan was shocked to feel that the simple touch from the exploring hand was enough to cause almost instant arousal in the man beneath him. As if to prove this further, the captive let go a small moan as the skin of the finger tip lightly grazed the throbbing bit of flesh once again.

This unexpected reaction was enough to bring the Vulcan to his feet. The man once pinned to the floor, moved swiftly in this freedom, kneeling in front of the other man. With confident touch, one of the cloaked man's hands disappeared down the pants of the surprised Spock and reversed the position held only moments before. Spock tried to back away but was stunned and enthralled by the touch of the stranger and the effect it was having on him. One hand continued stroking the answering member as the stranger's other fingers completely pulled down the uniform leggings. When the hand was taken away, the Vulcan let out a cry, unaware that the loss of such touch would be so regretted.

Spock did not need to mourn the loss for too long for mouth now replaced hand, tongue, lip and teeth being the equal of those skilled fingertips. Yet the hands refused to remain idle for long caressing the Vulcan's back and buttocks. Spock brought his hands to the head that was offering him such release and stroked it in gratitude.

Feeling himself about to lose control, the Vulcan gently backed away, the mouth of the lover still open. Spock brought his lips to the open mouth, forcing his own tongue inside it and tasting the salt he had left in his wake. Grabbing the human hands, Spock caressed them, enacting a Vulcan ritual that was not known to his lover. Still the other man tried to learn, gently stroking the hands pressed against his.

Not risking the chance of waiting much longer, the Vulcan firmly brought the stranger to his feet, facing him towards the wall of the cell. Spock grabbed the cloak, pulling it off of the man before him, the mask, still staying in place. There was no urge to remove it as well. Quickly, the Vulcan kissed the hollow made in the human's back and separated the legs, bringing forth another moan from his lover.

Fitting his head in the groove of the human's neck, Spock entered the man from behind. The man moaned first in shock, then pain and finally pleasure. As if in the act he was made whole for the first time in the entirety of his life. The Vulcan's hands rested against the human ones now splayed on the wall. They moved together, as one single being would. Spock could no longer feel, or desired to, the feel of the Enterprise at all. The only movement he was aware of was that of the man who had come to save him. His hands moved to the stranger's front, knowing that he was receiving pleasure as well for the salvation he offered. As they became more sure of their actions, Spock grasped onto the other man, below the waist, digging in and tearing into the human's flesh.

The stranger cried out and Spock nestled his head further into the crook of his lover's neck as if in apology. Their movements once again in rhythm it was a short while later that they climaxed, this too in a unison that echoed their actions.

Spent, they fell to the floor, their breath in unison now, as well. Spock could sense a new smell now, one of blood also but different from the first. While trying to grasp onto the meaning of this, he felt the stranger's lips press into his one last time before sleep claimed him.

* * *


	32. The Decoy

* * *

_**Chapter 32: The Decoy**_

* * *

When Spock woke he was alone, still in darkness, but without the sting of Pon Farr overpowering his mind and body. It was with a refreshing return of his reason, that Spock confronted the events of the past night. He knew it could have been no dream that had visited him, nor could it have been mere fantasy. Both would not have been enough to appease the stigma of his race. The scent of the room also was proof against the theory, as also was the stain on the wall where Vulcan and Human had become one.

The First Officer rose to his feet. With the mystery of the night having been solved, one burning question remained: Who had the lover been and who had sent them?

McCoy stood several feet away, behind the glass partician, Spock could now see. His arms were folded and he was watching the Vulcan. What the human's eyes could reveal was hidden in dark and shadows. Spock could not tell what the man was feeling only that he was more intent on voyeurism than immediate conversation.

"Good sleep?" McCoy finally asked, as he turned on the light, revealing himself for the first time, no expression on his face save for apathy. "A little human advice, Spock. The night before may always be a blast but the morning after is a bitch more times than not, especially when you wake up alone."

The glass wall gave way as Spock staggered to his feet.

"Better now?" McCoy asked.

The Vulcan nodded. "How?"

There was a look of amusement that flashed across the Doctor's face, one that vanished quickly. "One of the oldest ways of all."

McCoy walked away, nothing more said, leaving Spock standing still for only a fraction of a second.

"I suppose you want a more in depth answer, huh?" McCoy said as Spock entered the room. "I went to Kirk with your problem if you can remember."

Spock's face became even paler, something McCoy had only seen rarely happen. Apparently he did remember it and liked the notion even less than he had when he had been in desperate need for a solution to his problem.

Seeing the shock, affected by the sight of it, McCoy's words ceased. Instead, the Doctor walked towards one of the tables where something obviously lay under one of the sickbay sheets. Grasping onto the corner of the sheet, McCoy pulled it away revealing the upper torso of a naked male corpse. "Well he had an answer. One I couldn't find. With the promise of a promotion he let this poor sap come in and tend to you."

Spock looked at the man's body and inched closer to it, his steps slow and close to something out of a dream. Obviously the Vulcan was both horrified by the solution Kirk had found and entranced by it at the same time.

When he finally reached McCoy and the body of the deceased he stared silently at the face for several minutes. McCoy watched as the Vulcan searched the face, looking for some form of recognition or familiarity. When this failed the First Officer resorted to another means of identifying the man, one which McCoy was meant to have no knowledge of. Spock had known this man more with touch than with vision. Still, with all his reason and knowledge that death was a mere state and nothing to fear or cause revulsion he was hesitant to touch the man. Spock looked at the man's waist and found what he was looking for: The wounds that had been created by his fingertips pressing deeply into the flesh were there. He matched the marks to his fingers and found them the same.

"I must condemn your course of action," Spock riled. "I requested discretion..."

"I had to do what I had to do," McCoy snapped. "Besides, Kirk took care of that as well."

"And you supported _this_ method of being discreet?"

"No," McCoy tried to keep his voice steady and honest. "I knew what he was doing but I never knew that this was what he had planned. I'm a Doctor. Not a murderer. I thought you knew me better than that."

"Who was he? What was his name?"

"Beware Spock... You still mustn't be feeling that well. What logic would it serve if you knew his name? In this one instant I will give you a Doctor's opinion to be more like Kirk. He doesn't care who he screws just as long as it gets him what he wants. He's dead now. Served his purpose. Let it go."

Spock's eyes lingered to his fingertips and the wounds on the body he believed he had made. The eyes stayed to long on the crescent shaped mars and as they did, McCoy felt his pulse quicken, his throat clench and his heart begin to beat too loudly.

Being a Doctor, McCoy knew that those little marks could destroy the lie he had chosen to build in order to preserve the relationship he had so perilous built with Spock. He could not let the Vulcan know the truth of who had infact visited him in his urgent hour of need.

Being a Science Officer, Spock should know what the condition of those wounds meant. It was with feverish relief that McCoy watched the other man pull the sheet over the body once more, heeding the advice given moments before. "I suppose you are right, Doctor," Spock said, his words, even now, sounding far more confident and reasonable than they previously had.

"I will thank you for your help in this matter," Spock said his voice prim and completely business like.

"You're welcome," McCoy nodded returning the sentiment equally as distant.

"Even if you handled it less then perfectly."

McCoy only smirked. It was both frustrating and reassuring to have things back to the way that they had always been; Satisfied and saddened that he was now resigned to keep a personal secret that may very well tear him apart.

* * *


	33. Hints and Allegations

**_Chapter 33: Hints and Allegations_**

* * *

Having settled the problem of Pon Farr, things returned to normal. If McCoy noticed any vague signs left in Spock of the events and occurrences during that period of Vulcan shame they were only ephemeral. No sooner did McCoy find some hint of expression in the First Officer's eyes that he was at least remembering that time then it vanished into darkness.

To McCoy it sometimes felt as if he had lost a part of himself in the process. Knowing the effects that the secret could wield if he chose not to keep it safe gave McCoy the strength to keep on living each day as if nothing had changed and everything that had happened between Spock and himself had been little more than a dream.

The most unnerving aspect of it all was Kirk. That was nothing new in itself; the constant fear of what the Captain would do next was the price one had to pay while serving on the Enterprise, yet there was recently something even more disturbingly smug about the man. It was clichéd but at odd times McCoy would feel eyes watching him while on the bridge and turn to find Kirk staring at him with some cursed smile playing on his face; A slight curl to his lips, one that would not vanish no matter how long the Doctor searched the face, trying to find some revelation as to its cause.

Sometimes Kirk's eyes would then move to the Vulcan who was busy at some random task, as oblivious to his surroundings as he usually was.

At other times, Kirk seemed his usual self, possessing no more knowledge then he had before. This is what kept the good Doctor on guard, however: Kirk had known of Spock's previous dilemma. He also must have been aware of a sudden solution having been found. His First Officer was back on the bridge and cured. The Captain, serpent that he was, was sure to have been curious about what exactly had gone on. To believe that the man had forgotten was deadly naïveté.

It was with a certain feeling of relief and dread that McCoy found himself being summoned to the Captain's office one rather uneventful day.

For a brief while they talked business, a strange occurrence for McCoy who had regarded Kirk's lack of interest in the welfare of his crew as a peculiar blessing.

"So everything's tip top, huh Sawbones," Kirk said a broad and dangerous smile on his face.

"Nothing is new anyway," McCoy shrugged.

"A lot of free time huh?" the Captain said, leaning further back in his chair. He placed his hands behind his head and eyed his longtime acquaintance. "Are you finding a lack in things to keep you busy?"

The Doctor felt a bead of sweat appearing on his brow but did not give the other man the satisfaction of watching as he wiped it away. "I suppose."

"Have you ever heard of a television?" Kirk asked.

"Yes," McCoy answered his Southern accent becoming thick with the irritation he felt.

"Good boy!" Kirk smiled. "Then you are well aware that it was a square like box that people use to bring into their homes and spend relentless hours in front of watching some type of play that the whole world could tune in to. I don't exactly know why. Give me a lady or two, half a bottle of champagne and a bed and I could think of much better things to do. On second thought you don't even need the bed or the champagne."

"And is there some point to this _fascinating_ history lesson?" McCoy smirked.

Kirk's smile grew broader. "Well let's just say that on a certain stardate I think I found one program that may have torn me away from my favorite usual type of amusement."

The blood in McCoy's veins did not only run cold, it froze, stopping the beating in his heart and the other vital organs in his body from their usually non-thought of functions.

Kirk enjoyed the silence more than any words. "It was fascinating. I was finally letting Marlena up for a breath or too before we went back to business. You see, I have a certain item that is a lot like a television and Marlena found a certain… Let's say channel that caught her interest; Marlena's kind of into a certain type of entertainment. Usually that's not quite my thing but there was something that warranted my own interest too I might add."

McCoy believed that his heart had betrayed him, abandoning him forever.

"You see with all of those grunts and groans something struck me a little, shall we say, familiar?" Kirk continued. " May I also comment that it wasn't too difficult to figure out who the guy getting serviced was? Not too many Vulcans on board let alone one with such a problem."

"What are you trying to say," McCoy found his voice long enough to ask a question he already knew the answer to.

"Well can I assume you found your own very personal way to bring about an end to our favorite Vulcan's little problem?"

McCoy did no reply. He stared at Kirk for what seemed like a lifetime, searching for some rebuff or retort that would not cost him dearly nor would make him a fool. Thinking of none, McCoy did the only thing he could think of.

The Captain watched, laughing like Satan, as the Enterprise Doctor fled at a pace even Spock would have counted remarkable for a mere human being.


	34. For His Amusement

_**Chapter 34: For His Amusement**_

* * *

Seeking escape within the boundaries of his quarters, McCoy had never felt so desperate and afraid in his life. When Joanne had left him it had been an odd form of release. No longer did he have to worry about what people were saying behind his back, in hushed whispers veiling the lewdest suggestions. The feeling and fear that he had been a failure to her faded over time, only resurging when he remembered her and the dreams he had formed around a future with her.

This fear was new and far stranger to the Doctor. It was a mixture of frustration, shame and guilt, of being discovered and thus losing something he had tried to save. This realization bred a certain anger in McCoy's heart, one that demanded attention. Trying to quell it, the good Doctor was surprised to hear his door give alarm that someone was there.

McCoy stomped over to the intercom, almost damaging it from a press that more resembled a blow.

"Who the Hell is it and what the Hell do you want?"

"Hardly a professional reply, Doctor, but I would not expect one from you anyway."

The voice was Spock's and McCoy's terror intensified.

"The question still stands: What the Hell do you want?" McCoy said, his words mumbled and indistinct.

Still the Vulcan understood him and requested to be let in.

"It must be those Vulcan ears of yours," McCoy said to himself.

"What Doctor?" Spock replied.

"Nothing," McCoy said and found himself smiling in spite of his rancid mood. The Doctor weighed his options. He could either let Spock sit outside until he left, which giving the man's persistence was futile, or he could let him in and put an end to the doubt and hearstopping fear of why Spock had decided to pay him a little visit.

With a more gentler push of the button, McCoy opened the door and gave Spock the opportunity to enter and save him from the torture of not knowing.

"So why may I ask are you here?" McCoy asked.

"The answer to that question is just as mysterious to me Doctor," Spock stated. "The Captain merely sent me to make sure that you are well."

McCoy hesitated for a moment gauging his reply.

"That's it? He didn't tell you anything else?"

"That, I assure you, is it. I did not join the Empire to serve such menial tasks. I told this to the Captain but it seemed of some vital importance to him that I see you. May I take it that the conversation between you and Kirk did not go as well as expected?"

While McCoy was relieved that this appeared to be the extent of Spock's knowledge of what had passed between Kirk and himself, McCoy understood that his welfare was not on the Captain's mind. Sending the First Officer had been a sign or a gesture to intimidate him. Or maybe just to simply remind McCoy of what Kirk obviously knew.

"Well you can tell him to go to..." McCoy started to blast off some sarcastic remark but thought against it when he looked at the Vulcan's inquisitive dark eyes. "Tell him that I'm fine and that I appreciate his... _kind_ gesture."

Spock looked unconvinced. However, with a mere nod of the head he turned to leave. Standing in the doorway Spock sighed. "I would appreciate it as well if you would give the message to the Captain yourself. I am not a message boy and if I were I would frown upon being used for such frivolous tasks."

When Spock had gone and the door closed shut McCoy steadied himself.

As Kirk was coming off duty from the bridge the Doctor did as Spock had requested, though the message was somewhat altered.

"What kind of fucking game are you playing," McCoy hissed as the lift doors opened and he saw Kirk standing there, momentarily caught off guard.

"A game? I have no idea of what you're talking about," Kirk acted innocent.

"You know damn well what I mean."

Kirk smiled a serpent's smile. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Sure it was," McCoy heard the tremble in his voice, one of anger and fear. "Do you intend on blackmailing me? Is that it?"

"Really Sawbones! Blackmail is for petty people without power. Those grubby little souls who want to crawl their way out of the muck and mire of poverty and unimportance. Do you really believe that a man who could make the entire crew of this Starship disappear in an instant would resort to something as foolish as that?"

Kirk studied McCoy letting his disdain become suddenly evident. "Blackmailers only blackmail someone because they want something. What could I possibly want from you?"

"So what is it you want then?" McCoy snarled.

"Call it charity for my own amusement. It does get awfully boring out here in space when we don't have a planet easily available to rape and pillage. Consider yourself my personal jester. You certainly aren't a Doctor!"

"It's just a game to you? And what if I don't want to play?"

"Oh you'll want to play," Kirk smiled. "Or else you wouldn't need to wear a mask now, would you?"

"I will make you pay for this, Kirk," McCoy managed to hiss through clenched teeth.

Kirk's smile vanished. "And just as Blackmail doesn't mean a thing to me neither do your threats, McCoy. What are you Sawbones? Nothing. You have no power. If you were to die this moment no one would give a damn. You could be replaced with a simple command from my lips."

The smile reappeard, though it brought no comfort to the Doctor. "Just remain as you have always been, dear McCoy," Kirk said. "Stay just as ineffectual as you have always been."

Showing that he believed the conversation had reached its end, the Captain raised a hand and offered the Enterprise's Doctor a childish wave before he ordered the lift to take him to some other floor and away from any pathetic appeal that McCoy could offer.


End file.
